Father Figures and Other Lost Causes
by gracie89
Summary: Will be multi-chapter fic. John is falling apart and Dean is the one taking the punishment. Teenchesters with theme of child abuse. Rated M to be safe. There is a story line - don't let first chapter put you off!
1. The Lesser Man

**Chapter 1 – The Lesser Man**

He wasn't a bad father, quite the opposite in fact but he wasn't a perfect father either. Not that anyone could truly expect perfection. He was only human after all and humans fell down, they made mistakes. That was just part of the deal. This knowledge of course gave little comfort to John when he did screw up though. And this time he had _really_ screwed up.

He had lost he temper. Well OK, he lost his temper a lot. But this time he had lost his temper and he had lost _control_. That was what the problem really was. A loss of control was a BIG problem, particularly with his training. He could snap a guy neck as easy as a normal person could spell their own name. He couldn't allow himself to lose control especially not around his kids. Lord, how he loved those kids.

But some days no matter how much he loved them he found himself struggling not to throttle them. Sam with his constant questioning and the sulking, God how he hated Sam's _sulking_. Then there was Dean the walking hormone; chasing girls and getting into fights. The fights weren't always his fault exactly, he just had this kind of air about him that seemed to invite trouble and _boy_ did he have a mouth on him. Not to John as a general rule (and certainly not in front of Sam) but just about every other authority figure he came into contact with.

It was like Sam saved all his troublemaking for home and Dean saved it all for everywhere else. A weird little Yin and Yang thing they had going on that stretched into many other aspects of their personalities.

Sam hated that Dean just followed John orders unquestioningly, couldn't understand that kind of complete and utter deference to him. What Sam of course did not realise is that it was necessary when they were out on hunts. Sam had not been out on any major hunts, a few simple jobs were they knew he wasn't going to be in any real danger. Sam's role at the moment featured a lot more research than action – not that Sam minded of course. Dean on the other hand was out there in the thick of things, taking the hits and never complaining. He was practically a fully fledged hunter and had been for a while now.

Dean understood that if John yelled "Get down!" or "It's behind you!" that it was react or die, there wasn't time for a little Q&A and it was an order not a request. To rely on someone to keep you alive like this and not go crazy you had to trust them completely. There couldn't be a little voice in the corner of your mind going "Does he _really_ know what he's talking about?" that split second of hesitation or indecision could kill you.

Sam just didn't _get it_. He thought that John's lack of explanations meant that he was unprepared, that he was winging it on a hope and a prayer (which though he'd never admit it he sometimes was – not that that was the point!). He didn't understand the soldier mentality. It made him furious and terrified at the same time – what if John got himself or Dean killed, how could he live with that?

Of course there were occasions – NOT hunting related - that Dean had disagreed with his Dad. He just made sure it was never in front of Sam. Dean understood the unspoken chain of command there was in their family; it went John then Dean then Sam. So it was imperative Sam never saw Dean questioning their Dad on anything.

It also tended to be that Dean was either right, and John was not thinking rationally, or Dean had completely lost _his_ temper - which was actually relatively rare. These fights were OK as long as one of them kept a cool head, which they normally managed.

Not always though.

This was when the violence happened.

And Dean was always the one to suffer.


	2. Split Lips and Broken Hearts

"I promise, I promise... never again, do you hear me... never again." He had said that. And he meant it too. Honestly. Except that he hadn't been able to keep that promise. No, he was weak, weak and broken and it was his son that was paying the price.

And the cost was too high... just too high. John would have taken it back if he could, but he couldn't. That was just part of life's unforgiving nature. The unrelenting flow of time, steaming ever onwards refusing to allow a moment rest, a moment silence, so that a breath could be taken. All he needed was a moment to step outside of the pain and the fear and the fight to survive. So he could have done the _right_ thing.

John looked at Dean, at the bruises, the bruises _he_ had left. It wasn't the worst beating he'd ever taken. Dean himself probably saw it as relatively minor, but that offered little comfort to John.

Even as his offered the promises to never harm him again he could see in Dean's eyes that he didn't believe him. He saw something else though, something that terrified him; he could see that Dean wasn't angry at him.

After all he'd done he wasn't angry. This might not sound like a bad thing but John knew better. He should be furious, furious that his father could do this to him, but instead he simply forgave the man.

He blamed himself; he took on the burden of responsibility for something, _someone_, beyond his control. He thought he deserved it. It was this realisation that sent John to the bathroom of the crappy motel room they'd been staying for the last month, retching over the chipped toilet.

Sam was at school still, god, he couldn't believe it was the middle of the day, what the hell was he doing? He had been drinking since Sam had left for school, it was truly pathetic. Dean had stayed home that day because he had claimed he had no lessons until after lunch. In hindsight he guessed Dean had probably stayed home to look after him. That just made what he had done worse.

He didn't know his sons schedule at this school, they changed so often and he was out so much he'd stopped bothering. He figured at seventeen Dean was old enough to sort himself out just fine and it wasn't like Sam would be skiving unless he was been held at gunpoint. So when Dean had said he had the morning off when he arrived back at the motel from dropping Sammy off he just accepted it.

Then the school had called.

They wanted to know where Dean was when he was supposed to be in class. John had been furious. He had slammed the phone down and roared Dean's name. It wasn't that he didn't know that Dean skipped class sometimes, he wasn't an idiot, it was the fact that he had lied to him about it, right to his face. By the time the woman from the school had called John was utterly trashed and was at that moment incapable of reason. He surrendered to his anger completely.

He hadn't even given Dean a chance to speak before he had him up at the wall, hands around him throat yelling at the top of his voice. He was throwing a barrage of questions at his son as he sent the first blow into his abdomen. Any attempt Dean had been making to speak, to apologise, had ended right then.

The wind knocked out of him he sent a second blow to his son's face and a third and a forth. After he slammed his head back into the wall he had then let go and watched him slide to the floor raising his hands to shield his face as he came to rest on his side. John had not relented though; he had sent vicious kicks to Dean's stomach and ribs even as he let out yelps of pain and surprise. It had ended with a boot to the face.

John had stumbled back; his ire died and he was confronted by what he had done. He saw the blood running from Dean's face and pooling on the carpet below him. John was shaking. He felt himself backing away until he hit the bed and he sat down. His breaths were ragged and uncontrolled. Nausea was biting hard and he had to fight hard to stop from throwing up right there.

He needed to help Dean; he needed to help his son. He heard the gurgling, coughing sounds of his son coming round and it spurned him into action. When Dean saw him walking towards him however he flinched back, confused and concussed he scrambling to get some purchase to escape his own father. Another pang of guilt and self loathing hit John, he wanted to apologise profusely but he couldn't risk speaking lest his voice betray him.

"Wait, stop, please... I don't understand what's wrong... what did I do?" Dean choked out, unable to disguise the pain and the fear. He was too shocked to react to his father's vicious attack, not that he could ever see himself having the inclination to hurt his father. It wasn't the first time that Dean had taken the brunt of John's anger; he could accept it if it was necessary to keep everyone sane and together, this time though he didn't know what had happened.

John had just flown into a rage for some unknown reason, screaming, calling him a liar. He didn't know what he had done but it must have been pretty bad if his father was that angry, or then again maybe not. The reason why he had stayed home in the first place was to keep an eye on the man because he had seen the signs and knew he was spiralling out of control.

And John out of control could cause a lot of damage. The town they were currently staying in wasn't tiny but it was small enough that John crashing and burning could definitely attract attention; attention they could never really afford.

Dean had not however been expecting the blow up that had occurred. He had figured he'd be clearing up any mess John made in the house or tagging along to a bar to make sure no-one ended up in the hospital. But instead he had accidentally incurred his father's wrath.

As John carried on coming toward him he couldn't stop his heart from racing and the urge to get up and run was overwhelming. Unfortunately John knew how to put you on the floor and the likelihood of him actually being able to get up and run were somewhere between slim and none. Plus his father could have laid him right back out before he even made it a foot. Oh God.

Except that actually his dad didn't look so angry anymore. If anything he looked... remorseful. Dean felt the relief flooding through is body. He still didn't relax completely of course but then when did he ever?

When his father was drunk he got real nasty, like this whole other person. The first time he remembered seeing his father drunk he had honestly believed the man was possessed. He was only seven so he had ushered (or rather shoved) Sam into their bedroom before yelling 'Christo' and throwing water all over his dad. It hadn't been Holy water but Dean was way too panicked and had just grabbed a tumbler from the table and thrown it at John who had been sending harsh words and rough hands his way.

As the water hit his face John had finally reached out and with a vicious backhand sent his son to the threadbare carpet. The second it had happened there was this deadly silence and for one horrible, irrational moment Dean had thought he was going to die. But as it turned out John was just stood there looking so completely and utterly defeated. Then he had dissolved into apologies before he swept up his son in a giant bear hug, swearing he would never ever do it again.

That time Dean had believed him. Now though he knew better. This time he just told his father that it was okay and tried to stem the flow of blood.

There was utter silence apart from a few involuntary hisses as John stitched up the cuts on Dean's head and cheek. The cut on the bridge of his nose they decided would heal on its own. His left eye was almost swollen closed and there was a nasty looking bruise on his jaw. In short; he looked a mess. And that wasn't even taking into account the damage done to his torso.

They strapped his ribs up after tentatively confirming that they were either only cracked (not that that doesn't hurt like a bitch) or if they were broken they were at least stable. They both knew that the bruising would look a lot worse by the time it had fully formed. He was going to be pretty stiff tomorrow.

John offered Dean Painkillers but he refused. This was for two reasons; he might have a head injury or internal bleeding (unlikely but you could never be too careful) and he didn't think he wanted to get drowsy if it was just him and his dad. Even as he thought it he felt like it was some kind of betrayal but then again he had just kicked the shit out of him so it wasn't exactly unreasonable.

Plus, the pain wasn't that bad, oh who the hell was he kidding? It hurt like hell. It was almost as though it hurt more because of who had done it but Dean thought that this was probably just in his head.

After he was as patched up as he was ever going to get unless he went to hospital he went to his room and shut the door. He lay down slowly and desperately tried not to cry. What was he a seven year old girl? Plus crying with jacked up ribs was never a good idea. Again he felt a pang of guilt as he wished there was a lock on his bedroom door. He shouldn't feel this way about his own father.

In the other room John sat in a chair staring at a wall. And he remained that way, absolutely still apart from the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He had snapped back to being painfully sober the moment that he had realised what he had done and much as he craved it he was determined not to touch another drop of alcohol.

An hour later jolted out of this stasis and went to check on Dean.

And then as he stared at his son's damaged and frail humanity he felt like the worse being on the planet.

And Dean laid there trying to keep his breathing even so that his father didn't know he was awake, he felt terrible that his father was so sad because of him.

The motel room was so filled with self loathing it was almost hard to breathe.


	3. Blood and Crushed Veneer

**Chapter 3 – Staring at the Sink of Blood and Crushed Veneer**

_(A/N: Title from Skinny Love by Bon Iver - check it out if you haven't heard it)_

By the time Sam needed picking up John was together enough to go get him. He had taken a shower and was chewing gum in the hope that he could bury any sign there was that he had been drinking. Not that Sam was likely to notice.

He was incredibly smart and God love him he was a great kid, but he was also more than a little self-centred sometimes. Not that he didn't love his family of course and it certainly wasn't intentional; he just got a little caught up inside his own head sometimes. He an idea and he just wouldn't let it drop and then he ended up causing a whole load of upset and not understanding why everyone was angry at him.

And with all the thinking he was doing, he sometimes missed the things going on right in front of his face. John supposed that was going to work in his favour today.

When he arrived to pick him up Sam first question was about his brother – of course!

"Where's Dean?" His voice sounded a little indignant like it was some kind of personal affront that he Dean hadn't come to get him, but John could also here the worry underneath it that he knew Sam was trying to mask.

"He, um, he's at home."

"Okaaaay," Sam started sounding suspicious, "why?"

"He, he had to get some rest, but he's gonna be fine."

"Oh my God! What happened? How bad is hurt?" Okay, now there was full blown, unadulterated panic going on.

"Sam." He said in his 'stop it right now' voice, "I told you there's no need to worry; he's fine. Just a few bruises and you know your brother; he'll be using it to get girls phone numbers in no time,"

"Yeah." Sam said with a slightly shaky laugh, he knew he wouldn't be able to calm down entirely until he saw his brother with his own eyes. "So what the hell happened?"

"Maybe you should ask your brother." He wasn't trying to annoy Sam by being evasive (although he guess he probably had anyway by the huff he heard) it was just that he wasn't sure he could lie about that particular incident without throwing up right now.

The rest of the ride was made in silence; a silence which ended the second Sam saw Dean.

"Holy shit Dean!"

"Watch your mouth Sam." John growled on reflex, wishing he hadn't after the flash of... something... crossed Dean's face; his seriously battered looking face. It looked at lot worse at this point. The bruising had darkened and his left was now firmly swollen closed.

"Sam, stop acting like a girl; I'm fine okay?" He spun round slowly as if to prove a point, putting on the closest thing to an exasperated look he could given his current facial status.

"Fine? You are not fine! You look like you just had a run in with a monster truck and lost, BADLY! What the hell happened?"

Dean sighed. Apparently his father hadn't told Sam the lie they had concocted. He really hated to lie to Sam, but then he supposed there were certain things he had to do to keep the family whole and this was one of them.

"Look, I just got into a little fight with a couple of guys at that pool hall in town; it's really no big deal okay." He paused looking at the expression on his brothers. "Oh come on Samantha don't get all hysterical on me now."

Yeah, that helped.

"Oh my God! What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, do you have a death wish or is there some grand scheme behind your reckless disregard for both your safety and your education?"

"Gee, sorry Dad didn't recognise you there for a second." The second he said that he wanted to stuff the words back in his mouth in the hope they'd just disappear forever. No such luck.

"You know what? You're right. Why am I the one saying this? Dad please tell me you're not just gonna let this slide?"

A look passed between John and his father. Okay, what now? He couldn't punish Dean; that would be too much and whilst he knew Dean would probably just take it, he sure as hell couldn't.

"Sam. That's between me and your brother okay; it's not any of your concern. Plus he looks like he's learned his lesson anyhow."

"Unbelievable! What was that? Code for 'I'm gonna do absolutely nothing'?"

"Sam, watch it."

"Jesus Christ dad! You're gonna tell _me_ now? I literally don't even know how to respond to that level of utter _insanity_! Seriously, do you even _hear_ yourself?"

Dean decided to intervene.

"You know what Sam, in case you hadn't noticed I've had enough of the whole fighting thing for today okay so if we could just drop it for now please."

A look of guilt interrupted the outrage that had been colouring his face. Sam was angry but he guessed that his brother did look like death warmed over right now. He decided that now probably wasn't the time – not that he was going to forget about it, more of a 'to be continued'.

"Fine! Whatever!"

Well, no-one said he had to be graceful about it.

XXXXX

Sam spent the next hour in his room trying to get some work done which was not as easy given how furious he was feeling.

It was so unfair! He got called up by his dad on every little thing. If he went out to the _store_ without letting everyone know where he was going he got a never ending lecture and there was Dean getting into _actual_ trouble and that was just fine! It made him so mad. It was like Dean could do no wrong sometimes.

There was Dean; the perfect little soldier and then there was him; the family screw up.

Well that was rubbish! Dean was the one who screwed up this time but of course all was forgiven for him. It wasn't that Sam had never seen Dean get punished, it's just that sometimes it felt like he got a pass for no reason.

It wasn't even exactly that he wanted Dean to get punished; he was his brother and he loved him, it's just that he got hurt! And if their dad never called him up on it then he'd just carry doing it. He was probably gambling, hustling pool or darts or poker or whatever else he could use as a prop to scam people out of their money. It was dangerous and illegal; how could his father condone it?

Oh wait – how could he call his son up on it if he was the one who taught his son all of these 'skills' anyway! Dean was going to end up getting himself either arrested or worse... killed.

Sure he was angry at Dean, but mostly he was angry at his dad. John knew how much Dean idolised him and that he would follow him to the ends of the earth and yet instead of trying to set a good example he just manipulated Dean into doing whatever he wanted no matter how unethical.

Low on funds? Why not unleash the fresh faced innocent looking kid who would earn money much more quickly because no-one would suspect him of cheating? Who cares if he gets beaten to a pulp in the process? It's not like he'll complain.

At the heart of his anger lay a desperate, breathless voice that was crying 'oh god what if he gets himself killed and I'm here all alone'. He wished it would just shut the hell up!

Sudden in a flash of rage he launched the book he'd been trying to study at the wall.

"Damn it!" he roared.

Of course Dean came rushing in to see what had happened, knife in hand ready to take down anyone who might have made the fatal mistake of messing with his brother.

"Sam! Are you okay? What happened?" Dean demanded.

Sam felt himself laugh involuntarily at the sight of his brother bursting in ready kill with a knife that still had a slice of banana stuck to the blade. It wasn't even funny really, he just couldn't help it.

Dean followed his brother gaze to the object of his mirth.

"Yeah, so? I like bananas, big deal. Knife'll still kill you dead." Dean joked with a smirk on his face. "I take it you're okay then."

"Yeah," he said looking down feeling a little silly. Then he turned serious. "Look, it's not that I want you to get in trouble, okay? I'm just worried about you is all."

"Yeah, I know and I appreciate it man. I know you're just trying to watch my back. And it's not quite as simple as you think, okay? I didn't pick a fight or piss someone off I shouldn't have. There was someone I had to protect, okay, and things just got a little messy. You and I both know I can take it and I _wasn't_ being reckless, it's just that sometimes you have to make sacrifices." Well, that wasn't exactly a lie Dean thought.

"Okay. Sorry for yelling Dean."

"Dude you don't have to apologise." Dean said sounding amused. He paused and looked Sam in the eye, "We okay?"

"Course... jerk."

"Whatever... bitch."

XXXXX

The next morning when Dean rolled out of bed to take a shower his body was stiff as hell and he couldn't stop a groan of pain slipping out. As he made his way to the Caffeine room, I mean kitchen, he briefly flirted with the idea of just going back to bad but he knew that Sam would never let him hear the end of it if he did.

He grunted to his dad as a greeting and was met with a similarly eloquent grunt in return. Three cups of seriously strong coffee later they had progressed to almost full sentences; it was pretty impressive really.

"You going to school?"

"Yeah."

"You speak to Sam?"

"Last night."

"Things good?"

"Peachy."

"Good."

"Good."

Then Sam got up, way too awake and chatty for the rest of the Winchester clan.

"Morning. Are you alright Dean? You're looking a little pale. Have you taken any painkillers today? I think you probably should; you have gym class today. In fact actually maybe you should have dad write you a note; you really aren't up to anything that physical yet. Do you want me to re-wrap your ribs? I know you must have taken the bandages off to shower and I know it can be tricky to get them wrapped just right..."

He stopped abruptly after Dean poked his face repeatedly. He smacked the hand away.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"Sorry I was just looking for the off button." Dean mumbled sounding sleepy. John snorted. "Do I even have to be here for this conversation? Maybe I should just wait in the car."

"Shut up." Now both Dean and John snorted. _Just awesome_ Sam thought.

XXXXX

Dean drove the Impala into the student parking and picked a tactically sound place to park. The car ride had been filled with meaningless banter and jokes just as it normally was (providing no-one was in a sulk) but it felt a little forced somehow. Dean's head was aching viciously and as much as he tried to hide it Sam had picked up on this straight away. Thankfully Sam had deigned not to mention it but apparently couldn't stop himself sending worried glances his way.

When they parted ways in the hallway of the school Sam felt inexplicably guilty at the fact Dean was at school at all today. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that Dean was only there to appease him.

Dean however was more concerned with the fact that everyone was staring at him. So he had a few bruises, big whoop, was all this rubber-necking really necessary? Geez, you'd think they'd never seen a black eye before. Okay if he was honest he probably looked pretty awful, but still.

Then Kirstin, one of the hottest cheerleaders he had ever met, started cooing over him and he officially stopped giving a shit. If people wanted to stare so what? He had better things (and people) to do.

XXXXX

First period Dean had history and apparently one of the nosiest teachers ever. She had called him back at the end of class when everyone else was leaving. Miss Dane was only about 25 and couldn't have been teaching that long; she still had that sunny disposition that was unlikely to survive long term. But Dean along with the rest of the male population of the school thought she was damn hot so he guessed being kept back wasn't the end of the world.

"Something you need Miss Dane?" Dean said as charmingly as he could.

"Well, I think you can probably guess what this is about."

"Um, you couldn't contain yourself and just had to express your undying love for me?" Her laugh at his words sounded surprisingly genuine, but she seemed to stop herself as she remembered what she really wanted to talk to him about.

"Well, not quite. Why don't you sit down?"

"Well, much as I'd love to stay and chat I have a riveting chemistry lesson lined up next that I'm about to be late for."

"Don't worry, I'll write you a note." She said neatly blocking his attempt to make a quick exit. Dean sighed and sat down at the nearest desk. "So, you want to tell me what happened to your face?"

"This beautiful face? Well this gorgeous bone structure and downright _adorable_ arrangement of features; I was born with them. I know; it's okay to be jealous. You can admit it."

"Dean." She said in a 'cut the BS' tone he knew all too well.

"Look it's no big deal okay; there was a damsel in distress." Look of disbelief from Miss Dane. "I was the damsel in distress?"

"Dean."

"Okay _fine_, let's just say sexual misadventure and leave it at that." He drawled and smiled his most dazzling smile. No response.

"Dean, I just want an honest answer, okay? Just tell me how it happened and we don't have to make this into a big deal."

"We don't have to make it into a big deal either way."

"I'm just trying to help you Dean."

"Yeah, well I don't need any help." Dean snapped, his patience running out.

"Please, if you're scared you just have to talk to me and I'll sort everything out; you don't have to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid!" he said outrage clear on his face.

"Did you get attacked?" she asked softly, putting a 'comforting' hand on his shoulder.

"Oh my God, will you just drop it?"

"How can I drop it when I'm worried about you? Is something going on at home?"

"Okay, that's it I'm done. Since apparently you aren't listening to a word I'm saying I'll stop wasting my breath." And with that he stormed out of the room slamming the door behind him.

Miss Dane stared sadly after him. He had such potential but he just couldn't stop making trouble. He wasn't exactly reliable about completing work but when he bothered she was always pleasantly surprised. The messing about in class was probably just a troubled boy acting out, desperately seeking attention from someone who could help him.

Not that she was under the delusion that her input would be appreciated of course; she knew that it wasn't going to be easy. When he had lost his temper she seen his green eyes harden and felt... well she didn't want to say scared, maybe intimidated was the appropriate word. It was partly the change from wry amusement to a cold hard anger that had thrown her a little.

Although as she thought about it, he had scared her. Something in his eyes that told her that he could do some real damage if he had to. At the same time she had seen exhaustion and pain in his eyes though. He seemed almost too old for his years, like he had seen too much. She felt a little twinge of pain in her heart for the boy who was so funny and charming and yet so sad.


	4. Life and other Sad Songs

At lunch Dean and Sam sat together on a table of their own. A couple of people had tried to sit down, but Dean had fixed them with a 'fuck off' glare and they had thought better of it.

"How are you? Feeling any better yet?"

"Just peachy thanks."

"I'll take that as a no then." Dean just fixed Sam with a glare.

"I'm fine; I just wish people would stop staring." Well that was partially true.

"Someone start asking awkward questions?" Sam asked with a note of worry in his voice.

"Relax, everything's fine, we aren't going to have to move again yet." At least he hoped not. "So, you plucked up the courage to speak to that girl... uh, who was it... Shauna?"

"Louise!" Sam hissed. "How could you confuse those names? And I'm thinking about it, okay? I don't wanna start something then end up leaving a few days later." This caused Dean to snort.

"Oh right, of course that's what it is... chicken. First off an excuse to leave before she starts getting all _attached_, not a bad thing. And second, don't think I don't know an excuse when I hear one."

"Whatever."

"Ooh! That's her! Quick, go now! She's all by herself, separated from the herd, its perfect!"

"Dude, you're twisted." Dean just smirked at him and Sam saw that evil glint in his eyes recognising he was about to do something he wasn't going to like. "Dean... what are you? Oh, don't you dare!"

Too late. Dean had stood up and whistled loudly to get her attention (and everyone else's apparently) and yelled 'Louise'; well that explained why he wanted to know her name then. Sam suddenly wanted to disappear from the face of the planet, especially when Louise actually walked over.

"I hate you!" he hissed.

"I know bud, but you'll thank me later, trust me." Dean said beaming. "Ah Louise, how are you? My brother here tells me he wants to invite you to Jack's party on Friday. I know, I should have let him ask you himself it's just I'm driving and I want to know how many people I'm taking. So, how 'bout it?"

The smile on Louise's face was so wide her face looked like it might split in two any minute. Jack's party; as in Jackson Rydell's party, as in the _king_ of parties. Getting an invite to one of his parties was a big deal; there wasn't a chance in hell she was going to say no. Plus Sam Winchester was pretty cute anyhow so it was win-win really.

"Oh my God yes! I mean yeah, I'd love to. When are you gonna pick me up? Do you need my address? Of course you do, here let me grab some paper, I'll write it down." She grabbed a scrap of paper and in her neatest, curliest handwriting she wrote down her address and phone number. "Here. So I'll see you in science Sam, bye Dean."

"See ya." Dean said in his most charming voice, he elbowed Sam when the younger boy failed to say anything.

"Oh, yeah, see... see you later." Sam stuttered, a little thrown by that particular turn of events.

When Louise was far enough away Sam turned to his brother unsure whether to hug him or kill him and said, "Dude, what the hell?"

"What?" Dean said innocently as he resumed shovelling down food.

"What do you mean, 'what'? Please tell me you actually have an invite to Jackson's party. I don't think I'll ever live it down if you don't. She's going to tell _everyone_ she going to his party and if I let her down I'll end up a laughing stock!"

"Man, relax! Of course I have an invite; he's been trying to get me to come to his lame high school parties since we got here." He replied nonchalantly.

It seemed as though Dean could fit in so easily if he just made a little effort. He had a kind of draw that people couldn't resist; that bad boy charm that he exuded. Of course it led to a lot of fights too but hey, that was the price you paid for popularity.

Except... Dean didn't seem to care. There was Sam desperate to fit in, trying so hard (and apparently failing) to be 'normal' and there was Dean who didn't even have to try! It was kind of infuriating. As long as Dean was getting laid he was happy, it was almost as though he thought he was above all this petty high school bullshit, which Sam supposed he really was. Not that he didn't like going out and having a good time, he just didn't care about... much at all outside of hunting and his family.

It was kind of sad actually when he thought about it. Dean just seemed to have given up on being a part of normal society. Wistfully Sam thought that if they were a normal family, if their mom hadn't been killed, Dean would probably be the life and soul of the party. He'd be the quarterback and the 'Jackson' of the party world. He'd be the one throwing epic ragers that everyone wanted to attend. He'd have so many friends.

He'd be happy.

Still, life was life and he had to accept that.

XXXXX

Back to class for the afternoon and Dean was feeling a little cheerier; a side effect of both winding up and helping his brother at the same time, awesome. His two favourite past times all rolled into one; all of the fun with none of the guilt.

He sat at the back of the room as usual, he tended to check out a little in English; he just couldn't sum up the energy to care. He felt something poke at his shoulder and he turned to see who was causing this irritating intrusion.

He smiled when he saw it was just Lindsay. He hadn't actually registered she was sitting next to him. He really needed to pay more attention; not paying attention to your surroundings could prove fatal in his world. He actually liked Lindsay and not just in a 'wow you're hot' kind of way, she made him laugh and was just as scornful of high school as he was.

"You okay Dean?" she whispered.

"Does now seem like the time?"

"What? You worried about missing out on... whatever it is Mr Don is droning on about? Do you even have the faintest clue what he's teaching us?" They both had to stifle a laugh at that.

"Okay you caught me, I'm avoiding."

"Of course you are; that's Dean's M.O. 101 right."

"Damn Skippy."

"Talk to you after class?" Dean nodded in assent. "So, I hear you're taking your brother to one of those parties that you referred to as being 'too lame for words' as I recall."

"Ah, the sacrifices we make, eh? Consider it my good deed of the week. So feel like accompanying me?"

"What? You're actually going to go? I assumed you'd just be dropping Sam off and bailing."

"And leave him alone? I don't think so. Plus dad would kill me if I did. So, what'll it be? You going to leave me to suffer alone or do you want to come along and ridicule everyone and anyone? Come on, you know you'll have fun."

"Well I do love to ridicule... alright. When is it?"

"Friday night. So how the hell did you hear about this anyway?"

"Are you kidding? Everyone in the lunch all heard. The rumours were spreading like wildfire. You'd think no-one had anything better to talk about."

"Ms Kale is there something you'd like to share with the class?" boomed Mr Don's voice from the front of the class.

"Of course," she said standing up and clearing her throat as though she were about to make an important announcement, "I... am wearing mismatching socks."

With that she bowed and sat down with an entirely innocent look on her face. The rest of the room let out a collective snigger but it was only Dean who full on laughed.

"Something amuse you Mr Winchester?"

"What was your first clue?" Mr Don reddened in either embarrassment or anger before a sneer crossed his face.

"Well, I'd tell you to watch your mouth it but it looks like I got there a little late." He said referring to the bruises littering Dean's face.

Dean stood up so fast his chair slammed to the ground behind him with a loud crash which caused everyone to jump. His tone was quiet and deadly when he finally spoke.

"What did you just say?"

"Dean," Lindsay hissed putting a hand on his arm, "calm down."

"Yes Mr Winchester, 'calm down'." Mr Don scoffed.

At this Dean marched up to the front getting right in older man's face, invading his space fist drawn back. For a second everyone held their breath waiting for the violence to start. Mr Don shrunk away. But Dean's demeanour suddenly changed; his raised fist relaxed and he used his hand to pat Mr Don's shoulder instead. Still right in the man's face he smiled widely, his expression mocking.

"I'm not feeling so good." He leaned in to whisper in Don's ear, "I'm gonna go now, maybe you'd like to think about your behaviour in the future."

Don shivered, there was something threatening in the arguably innocent words. There was a titter of laughter and a ripple of excited chatter after Dean strode out of the classroom, cocky walk in place.

Lindsay grabbed her stuff and followed him ignoring Mr Don's indignant protests.

XXXXX

She caught up with Dean as walked down the corridor.

"What the hell was that?"

"What?"

"Don't even bother, spill it now." she said in a tone that brokered no room for argument.

"Why don't we go outside?" he said casually like this was totally normal, which it wasn't and they both knew it. She nodded and they went outside to sit on the bleachers.

The weather was autumnal but the sunshine had dried the ground and it was still warm enough to sit outdoors. They were both wearing jeans and jackets so they'd be fine even if the temperature went down a bit.

"Okay, procrastination time has officially ended, what's going on?"

"Nothing really, I just lost my temper. I'm not exactly feeling my best right now and Mr _Drone_ just pushed a little too hard." He sighed and let his head fall into his hands. It was weird but he actually found himself wanted to tell Lindsay what had happened, question was: was it worth the risk?

"Okay, fair enough. I'm guessing there was probably more than a few people who would have done the same as you if they'd had the guts." They both let out a little laugh at the memory of Dean's somewhat foolish actions.

"Yep, I think you're probably right. Man, Sam gonna be pissed." Dean said with a fond smile.

"You want to tell me what happened to you?" she asked softly, broaching the hard question. Dean looked away, feeling the inexplicable urge to ask for a hug. Lindsay apparently sensed this and slung an arm over his shoulder gently. He leaned into her touch.

"Linds, if I tell you something do you promise not to tell anyone? And I mean anyone; not you mom or your priest or god forbid Sammy."

"Of course." She said with a frown. He looked out over the football field avoiding her eyes.

"I... it was... well it wasn't his fault, it was mine... I just, it..."

"It was your dad, wasn't it?" It was phrased like a question but it was more of a statement really.

"Yeah." Dean said so quietly she almost thought she might have imagined it. But when he turned back to face her she saw the unspilled tears in his expressive green eyes. He drew up his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them tightly. He looked so lost and so small Lindsay didn't know what to do, so she just hugged him tightly to her and didn't say anything at all.

They stayed like that for what seem like a very long time before Lindsay finally broke the silence.

"You going to be okay?"

"Of course, I'm always okay." He said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. She let it drop.

"So, what have you got next?"

"Gym class, which I don't think I'll be participating in today."

"Well that's good to hear! Want me to stay here with you?"

"And let you miss out on math which I know you have next? I could never do that to you." he said with mock sincerity putting a hand on his heart. She punched his shoulder lightly and laughed.

"Hey, I was being nice!"

"Yeah right, I know I'm just a 'get out of math free' card to you." He said pretending to be offended.

"Alright, I guess I'd better go. I speak to you later loser."

"Damn straight." Dean responded with a salute.


	5. Three Broken Fingers

**Three Broken Fingers and a Glass of Champagne**

Gym class was somewhat less than perfect. They were playing football and the coach was a good guy and had been amicable about letting dean sit this one out. Football drills and busted ribs weren't the best of combination, not that Dean had admitted his ribs were bothering him though. The damage to his face was all the convincing the man needed.

He had sat on the beach and zoned out for the hour – something he shouldn't have let himself do. He discovered this after someone aimed a football at his head, someone named Frankie Riley.

His temper was already frayed at this point, so that A-hole Riley who hated his guts and had done from the moment he'd seen him, was a somewhat unfortunate victim of both circumstance and his own stupidity.

"Who threw that?" Dean yelled.

"Uh, that would be me. Nice aim, no? Sorry about the head." He sniggered, not an ounce of remorse in his voice.

"You shouldn't have done that." Dean said quietly.

"Why, what are you gonna do about it pussy?" The guy had been trying to goad him into a fight since day one. He was about to find out you should be careful what you wish for.

"Well," he said cocking his head to the side, "I'm gonna kick your ass."

Quick as a flash he charged into the surprised footballer. Tackling him hard enough to pick up off the ground and sending him flying through the air before landing with a thud. He had taken off his helmet to taunt Dean, something he probably regretted as his head bounced off the field.

Dean, filled with adrenaline was on his feet in second and had dropped into a fighting stance.

"Come on then get up! What you gonna lie there like a little _pussy_, huh? Well come on, you've been trying to pick a fight for weeks! Tell me that ain't all you got! I thought you said you were gonna kick my ass, bitch!"

The guy had a couple of inches on Dean and outweighed him considerably. This had apparently given him a false sense of security, or maybe it was his meathead buddies that followed him round just because he had some talent on the football field.

Riley groaned a little as he pushed himself to his feet. Dean might not have size on his side but he knew just were to apply pressure to cause maximum pain. He also knew how to make sure he didn't cause any permanent damage, when he needed to. No lethal moves today.

Riley finally started swinging and Dean dodged the blows, before putting him on his ass again.

It was at this point the coach finally noticed what was going on. It was also at this point that Riley's buddies decided to get involved. It had turned into an all out brawl before they were finally separated. By this point Dean had lost any semblance of control he had once had on his temper.

Honestly apart from a bloody nose Dean looked pretty much the same as when he had started, the footballers however, that was a different story. They were on the grass bleeding, bruised and moaning in pain. The coach had Dean round the torso to pull him out of the furore which he seemed to be the centre of.

"Stop it Dean. Right now!" he shouted in the kid's ear to try and get him to calm down as he appeared to be lost in his own little world of anger.

Coach spun him around and away from the, well, what he could only describe as carnage. His hands were holding on tight and apparently he pressed down to hard somewhere he shouldn't have and the boy let out an involuntary howl of pain. This surprised the coach enough to drop him entirely.

Dean went to the floor in a ball, his face contorted in pain and his arms gripped tightly around his chest. The coach knelt down putting a hand on the kids face. He wasn't sure why but he just felt the need to comfort this boy. He cared about his team of course but this kid was different. He knew that his players macho attitude led them into more than a few fights and beat downs but this kid was hurt already. It wasn't okay.

He stood up and yelled, "Right everyone who isn't involved get the hell inside. And someone send out the nurse! Bunch of idiots."

He knelt back down. He wasn't sure if the injury to his ribs was new or had already been there before this little incident. As he took a moment to think back to when Dean had politely asked if he could sit out the lesson, he realised that he had been holding his posture tightly, a kind of rigidity that spoke of some serious pain. He was a football coach; he knew how to recognise the signs.

It wasn't the first time Dean had turned up looking a little battered but it was the first time he had chosen not to join in. He had felt a slight swell of admiration those other times. His team could be a bunch of wimps at times but Dean hadn't complained even once. He was a damn good player too but he just couldn't convince him to play. The kid had just shrugged him off and said he thought they had plenty of players as it was.

Still he guessed now really wasn't the time.

"Alright, just try to breathe okay? Can you do that for me?" His only response was a curt nod. "Do I need to be calling you an ambulance?"

"Nope." Dean said through gritted teeth. "Just give me a sec."

At this he decided he really ought to go check on those other knuckleheads.

XXXXX

By the time the nurse arrived Dean was sitting upright on the bench trying to look like he was fine, which he blatantly wasn't and everyone knew it. Still didn't stop him though. As he sat there he took stock of his injuries. His head felt odd and out of proportion. The swelling caused his head to lull to the side slightly; the weight of it pulling him off balance. He hadn't been taken any serious blows to the head though, at least not since yesterday, so he figured he was okay. The pain coming from his ribs was intense and he knew he was rasping a little but he'd had worse and that kind of injury always hurt like a bitch; no matter how many times it happened you never really got used to it.

The nurse squared all the other guys who had been involved first; one of the perks of being footballers at this school he guessed. They had all left by the time she walked over to deal with him. It was just him, the nurse and the coach.

"So, I think maybe you should come to my office so that I can take a proper look at you," she said. Dean rolled his eyes, awesome, just... awesome.

"You know what, me, I'm just fine and oh look! We only have 15 minutes left," he said with false cheer, "so, I'm just going to take off and I'll deal with this when I get home."

"I don't think..."

"Really?" Dean interrupted deciding that being obnoxious was the best way out here, "Well, that sounds like it'd be a real problem, maybe you're the one who should seek help. Well, I have to get my little brother soon so I'd better be off."

He tried to walk away but the coach took him by the elbow, he was forceful but not rough or threatening.

"You know what Ethel," he said to the nurse, "I'll take care of him and you can get back to your office, okay?"

Without giving anyone a chance to respond he marched Dean off the pitch and to the locker room. There was a table they used for, Dean presumed, taking care of sports injuries and alike which the coach told him to hop up onto.

"So, take off your shirt and let me take a look."

"What, not even gonna buy me dinner first?"

"Dean, don't try my patience." Dean sighed and acquiesced. "Jesus boy, what the hell happened?"

"Oh for the love... would people stop asking me that! I'm fine! I'm just a little banged up is all. You're a football coach; you must have seen your fair share. _Why_ is this such a big deal to everyone?"

"Well a better question might be why this_ isn't_ a big deal to you? But you know I'm not here to judge, okay? I'm just gonna patch you up and let you get on your way alright." He said it with such a calm voice Dean started to feel silly for being such a pain in the ass about all this.

"Okay, sorry." He accepted the wash cloth he was handed to clean off his face. The coach silently did just as he'd said and patched Dean up. After he was done he handed Dean back his shirt.

"See, was that so hard? Oh, before you go, I was wondering if you'd given anymore thought to trying out for the team."

"Seriously? After what just happened? I have to be honest, that doesn't sound like the greatest idea. Those guys hate my guts and in case you hadn't noticed _the brawl_ that just happened, I can be a little... _reactive_ sometimes."

"Well, there was a little bit of friction between Page and the others when he first started hear but things are all good now. You never know, maybe it'd smooth over some of the tension if you did join."

"I don't know, I'll think about it some more. I can't see my dad letting me join anyhow so it's sort irrelevant really."

"I could speak to him if you like." Dean snorted at that, he couldn't quite picture that ending well.

"Ha! Entertaining as that would be, if he says no, resistance is futile so I wouldn't waste your time but thanks for the offer." He looked at his watch, "Crap! I have to go, I'm gonna be late if I don't shag ass, so I'll... er, see you. And y'know... thanks."

The coach just let out a laugh and waved the kid off, knowing he'd never be joining the team.


	6. Fairy Tales and Other Lies

Apparently the school had called home about his 'unruly behaviour' yesterday and wanted to arrange a parent-teacher meeting as soon as possible. They would decide his punishment after that. John did not look impressed, but he still felt far too guilty to tell Dean off though so he just ignored him instead. Way to go on the parenting thing John thought to himself sarcastically, Mary would be so proud!

Sam had heard about the various incidents but chose to say nothing on the issue. It wasn't that he wasn't annoyed about the lack of punishment anymore it's just that it seemed to be working in his favour this time. _This silence_ was self-serving as he really wanted to go to this stupid party on Friday and if Dean couldn't go then neither could he. He hated hypocrisy but he figured he deserved a break and there was no reason for him to suffer because Dean couldn't behave himself.

Dean could be such a child sometimes; impulsive and reckless. He was always pulling pranks and making dirty jokes and laughing inappropriately but he guessed that it was just him putting two fingers up at the world that had stolen his innocence and his childhood and any safety that he had ever had. Because Dean's childhood had ended at four. And so if he wanted to rebel every now and then he guessed you couldn't fault him that, but it didn't mean he had to like it though he though.

Deep down he knew he was being too hard on Dean. Dean was the one that had raised him really. Dad was constantly disappearing for weeks or just being to plain old wrapped up in his quest for revenge to notice important things like when the cupboards needed restocking or that they'd run out of clothes that were fit to be worn in public, or _birthdays_. No, that and so much more had been piled on Dean's young shoulders. And to his credit he had done a damn good job, so good in fact that John seemed to be unaware that he was even doing it. Sam guiltily realised his dad wasn't the only one who had been taking Dean for granted.

Maybe Dean getting into all these fights was a sign that he was cracking under the pressure. He should probably help out more before Dean snapped and went postal. His was suddenly distracted with the amusing image of Dean dressed as a postman, shorts and all.

"What are you laughing at freak?" grouched Dean from the bed next to his own. Sam knew not to take anything Dean said before he'd had at least 3 cups of coffee too seriously.

"Nothing ass-hat. You going to school today or have you been suspended?"

"No I haven't been suspended. I'm a little worried that the might have cottoned on to the fact that letting me stay home is really not a punishment."

Sam laughed; he had to admit, for someone like Dean it seemed like kind of a silly 'punishment'. Threatening to suspend Sam on the other hand, now that would be much more effective.

"Dad's coming to school with us this morning to have a little chat with the principal, so that should be... interesting."

"Dude, do not let dad kill anyone _please_! I don't want to have move again so soon." Sam said only partially joking.

XXXXX

As they sat outside the principal's office Dean started to wonder if this was a bad idea. They had been waiting for twenty minutes and John was looking crankier by the second. Damn it, where the hell was the principal? If he didn't arrive soon things were going to get ugly and he figured that would likely and up with him getting a worse punishment than he already knew he had coming.

Oh god he was going to be expelled! Come to think of it maybe he didn't care if he was expelled; he'd be happy to get out of this one alive. Sure Sam would be mad about having to move for a while but he'd get over it eventually, wouldn't he?

Perhaps if Dean got expelled again then his dad would finally accept that resistance was futile and Dean was never going to make through high school. He kind of got the feeling that if Mary hadn't been so adamant about wanting her boys to get their high school diplomas then Dean probably would have dropped out years ago.

He couldn't fathom why his parents had been discussing him and Sam finishing out high school given how young they must have been at the time. All it had earned him when he'd thrown that at their dad in the midst of an argument on the subject last year was the squeal of braking tires and an order to "Get out!" The result of that was an hour long trek back to the motel. He'd had a sprained ankle after the hunt they'd been on at the time and his dad had known that so he must have been pretty mad (and feeling particularly sadistic) to have done that. He'd also locked him out for the night which he didn't discover until he'd been hammering on the door for half an hour. Sam had finally (somewhat timidly) come to the window and said dad had order him not let him in. Sam offered to let him in the window but Dean had decided against it given that it was a good bet that their dad was getting drunk and he didn't want to risk Sam being hurt. He had simply told Sam to go to his room and not come out. Sam's automatic compliance told Dean he'd probably been yelled at by dad enough to scare him already. So he'd spent the night on the door step wondering when things had got so bad. That incident had put an end to any arguments involving him dropping out.

As he sat there remembering that night he found himself feeling angry. Not that he blamed his dad exactly; he knew that he was just struggling with the pain of losing their mother. Even as he said it to himself he at the back of his mind knew he was making excuses for the man and he wasn't the only one who had lost someone that night. He and Sam had lost their mother too. He stood up abruptly and started to pace trying to dispel the anger and pain that was building, his fists clenching and unclenching. John apparently noticed his distress.

"You alright son? You need some painkillers?" he asked.

"No, I'm good dad." And he actually did feel a little better at his dad's display of concern.

"You wanna maybe sit down then?" John said with a smile. "You look like you're getting ready to bolt."

"Shut up." Dean replied with a laugh but sat down anyway.

"You think your principal's planning to show up anytime soon? Case if he ain't I don't plan to hang around here all day; some of us have better things to do." He said loud enough for the secretary to overhear.

The woman smiled apologetically and asked if John wanted something to drink. John smiled widely and Dean was amused to note somewhat flirtingly, and requested a coffee in his most charming voice. When she left to fix it up for him Dean couldn't resist teasing.

"Oh, don't think I missed that husky voice or the extra southern twang you added there. I did not bring you here to get you laid young man!" he said in a mock stern voice. John outright laughed at that.

"Well, I might as well do something productive with my time. I'd hate for this morning to be a complete write off."

"Tut tut; you kids and your hormones!" Dean added mimicking something that John himself had aimed at him many a time. John just cuffed the back of Dean's head jokingly. "Well, you had to know I got it from somewhere dad."

John snorted; kid had a point. The secretary turned up with the coffee, a cup for John _and_ Dean; Dean had never been so grateful for his dad flirting in his entire life – it was damn good coffee and he doubted that many other students awaiting punishment got this kind of treatment. The secretary smiled shyly at John as he thanked her. Dean took the opportunity to get a better look at the woman. She was around John's age and Dean certainly approved in terms of hotness.

When she turned to walk back to her desk Dean started mouthing wildly at his dad to go talk to her. After he had finished the coffee he was about to go right ahead and do that when the principal turned up at long last. He considered making the man wait and chat up the secretary for a while just to make a point but he figured it wouldn't help his son's case much in the long run no matter how satisfying it felt at the time.

"Mr Winchester," the man said, "I'm Austin Greenberg the principal."

"I think you'll find you're late." Replied John glibly. The man looked to be in his thirties and John wondered how he got to be principal already.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he said sounding embarrassed, "I had a phone call I had to take."

"Good to see this meeting is important to you." Okay, that was a little harsh; if he was honest he wasn't all that bothered. If he had of been he would have just left.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that... I just... why don't you come into my office?" Austin wanted to kick himself for that winning response. He probably sounded like some stuttering kid, way to make an impression he thought. In his defence the gruff man was more than a little intimidating though.

They went into his office and sat down. The kid Dean looked more relaxed than he did, he had only been principal a few months and he still felt a little out of his depth sometimes.

"So, I guess you know why you're here today."

"Dean's being a pain in the ass." John said flatly.

"Well, that's not quite how I was going to put it, but Dean does seem to have been having some issues this week. Now I see here that he has been put in detention twice already since he got here_"

"Yeah," John interrupted, "he had a few issues adjusting to his new school, but that seems irrelevant now."

"Well, I guess." Way to assert yourself Greenberg he said to himself. "But my point was that this isn't the first time he's been in trouble."

"So he's not perfect? It's tough being the new kid. I'd have thought you'd understand that."

Damn, Greenberg thought; how did he know that. His appointment as the new principal _had _ruffled a few feathers and it hadn't been easy. Okay he needed to stop being side tracked.

"Well, I suppose I can sympathise but that doesn't excuse your son's actions. He was very rude to his history teacher..."

"Yeah well he was outta line!" Dean said hotly.

"Dean." John growled warningly cutting his son off.

"No, I think it's only fair we hear him out." The principal said. Dean still looked to his father for permission before continuing though, who responded with a nod of approval.

"He said somethin' he shouldn't have and I think given what it was, I responded with a lotta self control."

"What exactly did he say?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"Because I'm asking you."

"Look, it doesn't even matter anymore; you wanna punish me, go ahead."

"Dean..."

"He just, he shouldn't have... he said something about the whole..." Dean indicated his face his hands, "...y'know. It was just out of line."

The kid had said it so reluctantly and quietly with his eyes fixed at a spot on the floor, his demeanour so different that Greenberg didn't know what to say. He suddenly wonder whether he deserved punishing for that particular incident; Mr Don could be a bit of a self-important prick sometimes who knew just how to sneer in a way that made you want to punch him in the face. These were not appropriate thought for him to be having though.

"Well, I'll have a word with him about that but that doesn't mean that being rude to my staff is okay. You can't just walk out because you don't like what a teacher says."

Dean's nostrils flared in annoyance at that but one look from his father silenced him.

"Got it." He said through gritted teeth.

"And that brings us to the other matter of the fight on the football field. According to witnesses you were the one who started that."

"Let me guess; the 'witnesses' were football players? 'Cause their word should be accepted without question of course." Dean said sarcastically.

"Okay, you want to give me your side of the story?"

"I'm not saying I'm innocent here but I don't think it's fair I take all the blame here. Oh, and if I get suspended for this I think it's only fair they do too."

"Okay, calm down, no-one has said anything about suspension at this point."

"Right," Dean said looking sceptical, "well, not to sound like some whiny bi... I mean... girl, but they'd been singling me out since I got here. And it wasn't exactly me who started it, I mean look at me, I look like I had an unfortunate meeting with a meat tenderiser already, I'm not exactly on fighting form right now."

John had to struggle not to look away guiltily when Dean said that. The principal looked like he was at least a little convinced. John knew that Dean had started the actual fight but he had ordered Dean to try not to get kicked out as there was only one school in the area and despite what Sam might think he didn't want to move the boys unless it strictly necessary.

"Still, fighting is taken seriously here..."

Dean apparently decided at this point if he was going to lie he might as well really go all out. "And why in the do you think that I would willingly take on the whole football team _by myself_?"

John involuntarily smirked at that, covering it with a cough hoping Greenberg hadn't noticed.

"Well..."

"You think I'm a moron? You think I would volunteer for an ass-kicking? And it's not like anyone was going to stick up for me if it meant crossing the football meatheads! Why is it my fault that they tried to beat me to a pulp? What, they get a pass because they underestimated me and ended up getting hurt too?" Dean sounded annoyed and offended tinged with a little sadness; John knew it was all an act though, was that a _tear_ he saw in his son's eye?

Who knew what a little con man he'd raised? This was something he actually tended to encourage though he mused; absent-mindedly he wondered if this made him a terrible father. A more dark thought occurred to him that this was not the worse quality he had as a father.

"Okay, it's alright Dean. Maybe I was a little quick to judge." Austin wondered if maybe he had been about to punish the victim here, I mean who in their right minds took on an entire football team?

He'd heard from a couple of teachers that Dean was a bit of a trouble maker, but maybe that was a defence mechanism. Looking at his transcripts the kid seemed to be moving around all the time, it had to be tough always being the new kid; maybe it was understandable he had built a 'don't give a shit' façade, kept him from getting picked on some he guessed.

"I'll tell you what Dean; I'll put you on lunch time detention for a week – just like everyone else involved might I just add before you say anything about unfair treatment. I can't let everything you did go unpunished, it would set a bad precedent, don't you think?" And the teachers would have his head – not that Dean or his father needed to know that.

"Fair enough." John said still sounding a little gruff. Why was it that everything this man said seemed vaguely threatening Austin wondered?

"There's another condition; I want you to see the school counsellor."

"Oh come on!" burst Dean throwing out his hands in protest (only wincing a little) "I don't need to see a counsellor!"

"Dean." Again one word of warning silenced the boy; Austin was suddenly unnerved at how this rebellious boy was so very compliant to anything his father said. He started to worry that maybe he knew where those bruises had come from. Yes, this boy was definitely speaking to a counsellor.

He was going to try and get some kind of honest answer about how Dean had been injured in the first place but he decided not to in case the perpetrator was sitting in the same room; he didn't want the kid to suffer because of it, he'd get the counsellor to ask when the kid was alone. He considered reporting the father to social services just in case but then decided to wait until he had some actual evidence. He didn't want to tear a family apart for no reason that would do more damage than good; he'd see what the counsellor had to say first.

"Okay, just so I make myself clear; if you do not attend these counselling sessions you will not be permitted to attend the school."

"What! Oh come on! What about everyone else, are they expected to get '_counselling_'?" it was said with such distain Austin began to wonder what this kids issue was with it. Dean took the pause as a 'no' to his question. "Thought not..."

"Dean, I warned you, and what about Sammy, huh? You forget about that little promise already?" John said irritation colouring his tone. He turned on the principal and with obviously forced politeness said, "Mr Greenberg, my son will be happy to as many sessions as you deem necessary. Thank you for your time and don't hesitate to call me if you have any more problems with Dean."

He then stood up and marched out his son trailing him looking markedly grim. Mr Greenberg just sat back in his chair unused to people exiting in such a... fashion. He wasn't sure if Mr Winchester's last statement was a threat or not, and if it were who that threat was aimed at for that matter. It certainly didn't sound like an offer that many people were likely to take him up on either way, but maybe that was the point he mused. It was probably a fairly effective way to get weak minded bureaucrats to back the hell off.

Man, he was starting to feel sorry for this kid. He suddenly had the urge to call his parents just to thank them. Maybe he was being a little harsh on this Winchester guy; he could just be having a bad day, getting called into school because your kid was in trouble _again_ probably was pretty aggravating. But this guy just had this vibe that said 'back the fuck off' which was more than a little intimidating.

XXXXX

John got the secretary's phone number before he left but in his heart of hearts he knew he wasn't likely to call her. Sure he had his fair share of one night stands but he wasn't ready for a serious relationship, he still loved Mary too much. And even if she wasn't around it still felt a betrayal to even think about falling in love with someone else.

Dean was glaring at anyone who made eye-contact with him making silent (and effective) death threats. People seemed to be getting the message. Dear Lord, no wonder the boy got in so many fights.

"Dean, how 'bout you cool it there, we've come this far without any bloodshed, why stop now?" John said lightly but his message was clear, 'can the attitude or else'. Dean wisely chose to acquiesce... or at least making a valiant effort.

John understood Dean's reluctance about the counsellor but he also knew when a damn good offer when he saw one. Most people would have just expelled him, by all rights he probably should have been. Dean clearly didn't agree but John was being objective about things unlike his son.

And you know what; he was a big boy now, throwing a tantrum just because he didn't want to see some stupid counsellor was not acceptable. He had seen that Dean was about to get vindictive and piss the guy off until he gave in on the counsellor issue in there and put a swift end to it. He was aware that Dean would have probably have managed it too but all that good will the principal had shown him would have dried up quicker than a puddle in the Sahara.

If he hadn't been expelled on the spot it would only be a matter of time before the guy found some excuse to kick him out and there would be no second thoughts or remorse that time around.

John turned back, saw his son's terrible attempt to look neutral and just said, "Dude, suck it up."


	7. I Get Away From You Darling

**I Get Away From You Darling**

[Title from Everybody Loves You by Jenn Grant]

God he hated his life some days! Why did he did he have to see some lame counsellor? Yeah, because that was really what he needed in his life... not. His life was basically this huge lie and now he was supposed to go talk to some asshole who thought they knew better than him. They knew sweet FA about his life and all the shit he had to deal with. He had all these responsibilities but he couldn't let anyone know that so obviously he never got cut any slack so you know what it was a miracle he was holding it together so well full stop.

And one of the two people in the whole world who _did_ know the truth had just let him down big style. He couldn't believe it! Suck it up! SUCK IT UP! Yeah that was easy for him to say! He wasn't the one who was going to have to spend God knows how long EXTRA struggling to keep up his BS façade to someone who was going to be paying a whole lot more attention than the average Joe. This was so unfair!

He couldn't even look at his dad as he watched him leave the school a sense of betrayal hitting him like a kick in the gut. He suddenly felt like that five year old starting school for the first time since mom had died. He had stood silently watching his dad walking away feeling so sad, lost and alone. The pain in his heart had hurt more than any pain he'd ever felt before, so bad he thought he might actually die.

It took him a few years but that level of emotion tended to manifest as anger now. All the hurt and the fear that he couldn't live with on a daily basis if he wanted to stay sane, became this ball of aggression that he could channel into something useful; that he could expel on hunts or the constant training he had to keep up.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He wasn't a little kid anymore. Internal tantrum was now officially over. It was time to suck it up like his dad had said. His life was one big mess of disappointment and compromise but he loved his family enough that he could live with the sacrifices.

He yanked his timetable out his jeans to check what class he had next and headed off toward it. He had learned the layout of the entire school from the blueprints his father had managed to procure somehow like he always did if he could. He wanted his boys to know where to go if there was an emergency, plus it was good practice to think tactically. It had become habit to check the entrances and exits etc whenever they walked into a room. It was all about staying alive. Assess for danger, _always_, without fail. If it was automatic it meant that you could better focus on all the other information that your brain was receiving.

Sure it had felt silly sometimes at first but after Dean had started hunting for real he'd realised just what an advantage it was. Avoiding flying knives throw from invisible hands and staying oriented and in one piece (or close enough) is one hell of a skill.

Algebra; great his favourite, _not_, well at least he'd missed most of the class at this point. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

He arrived at the door only to find that it was locked. He rolled his eyes; typical. He still thought there was a flaw in Mrs Ford's logic in thinking that locking him out was a punishment. She did it as a warning to turn up on time if you wanted to get in. A much more effective punishment he had experienced was one by one of his old teachers who would keep you after class however many minutes you had been late plus extra if you were a smartass about (which of course he was) now that had been much more effective. Getting locked out only served Dean with a much better excuse when he was inevitably caught roaming the halls (sure he could have hid but who gave a crap if he was found; what were they going to do?).

This time though he figured he ought to try to get in given that one he had a good reason and two, and more importantly, the principal would probably check and now wasn't the time to push it.

He knocked loudly and waited. When there was no reaction he knocked again with much more force. He peered through the small window in the door that was partially obscured by a notice on the other side. He could see the teacher pointedly ignoring him and continuing to blabber on to the room of bored looking 16 and 17 year olds.

He glanced around him checking there was nobody around before whipping his lock picks out of his back pocket. He wasn't really sure why he was going to all this effort to get into a room that he would only spend his time wishing he could leave once he made it inside. Whatever, that wasn't important right now; he just hoped that the noise in the classroom was loud enough to mask the sound of him unlocking the door.

He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he opened the door. He heard that satisfying click as the lock opened. He straightened-up and stuffed his illicit tools back into his jeans pocket. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he knocked one last time before opening the door and swaggering in.

Mrs Ford's head shot up to look at him her mouth opening and closing reflexively as though she had forgotten how to speak. Dean's smirk widened.

"Hey Ms Ford." he had always called her that stating somewhat offensively that he refused to believe she could possibly be married. Okay so he was a bit of an ass sometimes but she had started it by insinuating he was probably shit-thick trailer-trash. "I knocked but you obviously didn't hear me."

He went to sit down without waiting for a reply. Mrs Ford finally found her voice.

"Excuse me..." she began haughtily,

"Oh that's quite alright." Dean interrupted choosing to misinterpret her words. There was a snicker that rippled through the room.

"I...that's not... why are you so late?"

"Oh I had an appointment with the principal, don't worry, I'm sure he'll vouch for me." Dean replied cockily.

"Well, you're VERY late..."

"Sorry you'll have to take that up with Principal Greenberg; he was late you see. And d'you know what I'm sure he hadn't thought about the impact that might have on you but I'm sure he'll be real sorry for any pain and suffering he might have caused."

"Oh for the love... just sit down!"

Dean was more than a little amused as he dropped down in an empty seat near the back. The best thing about this particular wind up was that he hadn't actually done anything that she could call him out on. Once he was sat down it occurred to him he now had to sit there for 15 more minutes with nothing even in the vicinity of interesting. Still, he couldn't honestly say it wasn't worth it.

XXXXX

At lunch time he went to go find Lindsay before remembering that he was supposed to be in detention; awesome. Now he was going to be late too, but what did he care? It's not like making a good impression really mattered to him anyhow.

He bumped into Sam on his way to detention who seemed more than a little surprised to see him on school property.

"Dude, what are you doing here? You can't seriously be telling me you didn't even get suspended?"

"Don't sound so disappointed."

"I'm not! I'm just... surprised. So how the hell did you talk your way out of this one? Oh my God; you turned on the waterworks didn't you!"

"Dude no! I have to admit I did consider it though," Dean laughed, "but as it turns out it wasn't necessary. So you can stop stressing now, we aren't going to have to move just yet. Apparently I looked pathetic enough that he believed that I couldn't possibly have started a fight."

Sam snorted, "Well clearly he doesn't know you at all. You'd start a fight even if you had two broken legs!"

"Damn straight. Now, I gotta shoot loser, lucky old me has lunchtime detention for a week." Dean left with a mock salute. Sam just laughed at his idiot of a brother.

XXXXX

A lunchtime of boredom later and Dean was off to English class. He'd have to deal with Mr Don but at least he had Lindsay to talk to. He arrived on time for once so that was something at least.

One harsh 'Move' aimed at the moron who had taken his seat and he was in his usual spot at the back. He would never admit it but he was actually waiting for Lindsay to get here and full on beamed when she arrived. She waltzed over to him and sat down next to him.

"Well look who it is; the one and only Dean Winchester. The one man army who took on half the football team and lived to tell the tale." She said half disapproving half impressed.

"What? You want an autograph?" Dean said a little defensively.

"That depends; you had your head checked? Have they located your brain? Seriously, what the hell were you thinking getting in a fight _again_?"

"Oh what, like it was my fault last time?" Dean hissed back his good mood gone without a trace.

"Dean I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that; I'm just worried about you okay. I'm sorry."

Dean exhaled, closing his eyes. "I know, I know, okay? And I'm sorry for snapping at you to, just because I'm having a crappy day doesn't make it okay to take it out on you."

"God listen to us, the violins will be starting any second." They both laughed the tension leaving as quickly as it had arrived. "So you think you'll make it a whole lesson this time?"

"Who knows? Given the amount of looks I've been getting everyone's waiting for the 'psycho' to snap, so who am I to disappoint the people?"

"Dean..."

"I'm kidding! Geez oh thee of little faith, I'm gonna be a good little boy okay Doubting Thomas."

"Ooh, getting Biblical on my ass, someone's feeling pissy." Lindsay mocked.

"Yeah, whatever." Dean said mock offended. "So, are you still coming to this party with me?"

"I don't believe I ever agreed to that in this first place, but yes, I suppose I can accompany you if I really must."

"Don't pretend, I know you're stoked to be invited out by the unofficial winner of the psycho of the year award. And really who could resist this face anyhow?"

"God Lord, I really don't know how you and your ego got through the classroom door."

"Well it was a bit of a struggle but I made it. I'd hate to deprive you of your _quality_ 'Dean Time'."

"Oh, you are _so_ thoughtful. How can I ever thank you?" She said in her best 'swooning bimbo' voice.

"Nice, have you been working on that? Maybe you should bring _that_ girl to the party..." Lindsay punched Dean in the arm causing him to hiss.

"Oh! Dean! Sorry! I forgot..."

"Linds would you relax I was kidding. It takes more than that to hurt me." Dean said with amusement in his voice.

"Shut up and do your work ass-hat." Lindsay said trying to look angry but unable to keep the smile off her face.


	8. If I Lost You

Friday night had finally arrived and Sam had tried on three different outfits (much to Dean's amusement) before finally picking one and sticking with it. Dean on the other hand was completely indifferent and just slung on the first clean things he found. Sam wished he could be as confident as Dean about this whole thing but he just couldn't do it; he didn't understand how Dean managed it. Maybe it was a personality thing. Dean said it was about not giving a shit what other people thought. This was really no help to Sam at all because if he stopped caring about what people thought then it wouldn't matter if he came across confident anyway. He needed another way!

This had led to Dean's second solution, one that seem to be the answer to a lot of problems according to Dean; getting laid. When Sam had questioned his logic and Dean had just clapped him on the shoulder and said 'trust me' then walked away like that explained everything. Thanks a lot Dean.

"I'm thirteen Dean!" he called at the retreating form.

"Yeah, so? I was your..." Dean had probably continued on but Sam had slammed the bedroom door knowing he definitely did not want to hear the end of that sentence. He heard a yell of 'get laid _Samantha_!' from the other side of the door. Damn, he knew he shouldn't have let Dean see him trying on more than one set of clothes.

XXXXX

Dean walked into the kitchen to find their dad engrossed in a bunch of newspaper article and ancient books. He cleared his throat to get John's attention.

"Dean?" was the gruff response.

"Yeah, I just wanted to let you know me and Sam were about to leave, okay?" John's eyes narrowed as he tried to remember where his son's were going and whether he'd agreed to it. Dean recognised that look and elaborated, "The party."

"Oh yeah of course. Remember to watch Sam's back and no alcohol," he raised a finger to point at Dean, "and that goes for _both_ of youI do not want you driving drunk, got that?"

"Like I would ever do that!" Dean resented that accusation and had almost retorted with 'I think I'll leave the drunk driving to you' but managed to catch himself in time. That little insult would not have gone over well at all regardless of the fact it was not totally inaccurate.

John would be a liar if he denied ever driving when he was over the limit although once Dean was could drive he had taken to delegating driving duties to his eldest if he was too drunk. Plus it's not like Dean would let John drive with Sam in the car if he was too far gone, the protect Sammy mentality was way too ingrained to allow something like that if he could stop it.

"Damn right you won't. I want you back at 1 at the very latest, if you aren't back by then I'm locking the door and you two can enjoy a night in the car, got it?"

"Yes sir." Dean confirmed knowing his father was dead serious.

XXXXX

The ride to the party after both the girls had been picked up had started off a little awkward with no-one saying a whole lot but by the time they arrived they were all chatting amicably. Sam was incredibly relieved that things were going well which made Dean chuckle to himself; he could never understand why that kid cared so much.

The party was already starting to take off when they arrived at around 8 o'clock, which seemed early to Dean but who knew, he hadn't been to lame high school parties since he had been able to get into bars a few years earlier. He tended not to bother showing up until at least nine so things were a bit livelier when he arrived; he hated getting there at that awkward stage before everyone was buzzed. Apparently that wasn't a problem at this party though so he didn't have to worry about that.

"Sam, we're leaving in time to get home for one, understand?"

"Got it. We'll see you guys later." Sam said.

He then hopped out to open the door for Louise who beamed ecstatically at the gentlemanly gesture causing Dean to mouth 'get laid!' to Sam pointing at Louise wildly. Sam looked a mixture of mortified and furious even though in Dean's defence it wasn't like she could see him. Lindsay covered her mouth to stop herself laughing loudly. After they'd left she stopped masking her amusement.

"You are so mean to Sam." She laughed.

"What are you talking about? That was some serious and _excellent_ brotherly advice there."

"He's thirteen!"

"Exactly!"

"You are so twisted."

"What? Why? Thirteen is perfectly normal, I w... how is that twisted?"

Lindsay just shook her head and said, "Never mind." With a snort and got out of the car.

He followed her slinging an arm round her shoulder as they walked toward the house. This was definitely not a party with adult supervision. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

True to their original plans Dean and Lindsay spent much of their time mocking the other party goers and generally joking around with each other. They had settled in the kitchen sitting together on one of the lavish granite countertops. It was 11pm before Dean even bothered to check his watch.

"Wow, we've been here two hours already!" Lindsay said surprised. "You know much as I hate to admit it I'm actually having fun."

"Ah well, that's because you have such excellent company." Dean joked.

"Yeah, maybe it is." She replied unexpectedly serious looking Dean straight in the eyes.

They were both suddenly acutely aware of how close together they were. Dean felt a jolt of desire spiral through him. From the way Lindsay's pupils were dilated he guessed she felt the same.

They were snapped out of their moment by a sudden crash as someone's glass smashed on the floor. The noise had caused Dean to jump to his feet automatically searching out the source of the sound. After he had concluded there was no danger he turned back to Lindsay.

"Jumpy much there Dean?"

"Sorry, habit." He responded in explanation. A look of something like worry passed across Lindsay's face.

"You don't have to apologise. So... how are things at home?" she asked quietly.

"Linds... is this really the time?" he closed his eyes as painful images flickered through his mind. The injuries still fresh enough for him to be constantly aware of them were not something he wanted to discuss.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up, it's just when is it ever a good time? I'm not trying to make this hard for you I just... I just care, okay? It's not easy to see you like this y'know."

Dean didn't know what to say and they just stood there a while looking at each other; both of them with slightly watery eyes not that either would ever admit it. Dean finally turned away, clearing his throat.

"I need to go check on Sammy, you wanna come?" he asked his voice sounding a little gravelly. She nodded and followed him silently.

It took them a while to find Sam as the house was huge.

"Jesus, who could possibly need this much crap? This house is way too big for one family." grumbled Dean.

"I know, kinda makes you wanna steal something, doesn't it?" Lindsay said with an evil smile.

"Well, look at you going all bad-ass on me. I shall make a criminal out of you yet." Dean laughed.

"Ssssh!" Lindsay said suddenly before whispering excited, "There he is!"

"Why are you... oh." Dean realised why she had silenced him. There was his little Sammy locking lips with Louise. He wanted to yell 'Go Sam!' but decided that would be too mean, hilarious, but too mean. He felt Lindsay tugging his arm and let himself be pulled out the room.

"Do not, I repeat DO NOT tease your brother about this!"

"Why would I tease him? Congratulate him on the other hand, definitely!"

"Of course you will." She said with a slightly exasperated but amused tone. "You are such a child, you know that?"

"Well I gotta get my kicks somewhere. Sammy flustered is hilarious."

"You are a terrible big brother."

"What are you talking about? I gave him a condom, what more do you want?" Dean joked only to be punched in the arm.

XXXXX

They finally left at 12.30 when Dean suddenly remember their curfew and the deadly serious warning and had frantically run to find Sam. He was not sleeping in the car because his brother wanted to have a good time. He'd done him a favour taking him here in the first place AND getting him a girl to go with too. Damn he was a good brother!

He had hustled everyone out to the car and broken a whole slew of traffic laws to get the girls home and then get back to the motel before 1am. It was a couple of minutes to one when they arrived and Dean was incredibly relieved. Normally he wouldn't have been so bothered but his body couldn't take a night cramped up and freezing in the Impala, no sir!

Much as he loved his car he was just in too much pain and discomfort, not that he'd ever dream of telling anyone that though.

John was still in the exact same place as he had been when they'd left; the only noticeable difference in fact was the books that had been added to the pile on the table and empty bottles of beer.

John noted the dopey grin on Sam's face as he said goodnight and narrowed him eyes before glaring at Dean.

"Is he drunk?"

"No," Dean laughed, "he's just thinking about the nights delights, namely a girl called Louise."

"Ah," John nodded, "I see. I guess I'll see you in the morning then."

"Yeah, you gonna get some sleep soon?"

"That's not really any of you concern." John replied harshly.

"Well that's not exactly true is it?" Dean said feeling annoyed.

"Go to bed Dean." John said his voice hard.

"Look, I'm not trying to be rude; I just think you need to get some rest, okay?" Dean said attempting to keep his tone neutral.

John stood up his eyes dark. "I said. Go. To. Bed."

"Dad, this is ridiculous! What is your problem? I just think you need to get some rest!"

John closed the gap between them getting right in Dean's face.

"Just who in the hell do you think you're talking to?" John said quietly punctuating his words with a hard shove towards the door, crowding Dean. Dean was starting to feel small, especially next to his father.

"Dad just calm down; I'm not trying to pick a fight." Dean held up his hands emphasize the point.

"Neither am I, now get your ass into bed." John said but his body language was flying in the face of his claim.

"Sam is in the next room, can you please chill the hell out!" Dean hissed.

"Don't you speak to me like that!" Another shove sent Dean into the door frame. It would have been okay but for the bruises littering his body already and the impact sent just enough pain to make Dean flash with anger.

Enough to make him shove back.

The two Winchesters eyeballed each other, both knowing that they were at a tipping point; knowing this could turn into something nasty.

Dean hated where this was going and knew he had to calm down right now or this was going to end very badly. Worse than that Sam was in his bedroom and there was no way in hell he wanted him involved in this mess. He took a deep breath and made a decision.

He lifted up his T-shirt high enough to expose his stomach and some of his ribs.

"You did this to me." Dean said quietly without accusation in his voice. "You did this to me and if you don't get some rest you're going to end up doing it again. I know that you didn't mean to. I know that you're just angry and tired and sad, but that does make it okay. I know why you did it, I was on that hunt to and it was horrible. I can't even image having to pull that trigger on that gi..."

"DON'T! Don't say it!" John cried out. He looked like he might throw up, his skin losing all its colour. He stumbled backwards ending up down on his knees, crumpling in on himself. His face contorted with a pain that was not physical. There were silent tears rolling down his face, every one an expression of his agony. "I'm so sorry Dean, I'm so sorry."

Dean wrapped his arms around him tightly rocking him trying desperately to soothe some of his suffering but feeling so useless and out of his depth. "It's okay. It's okay. You had to do it. She wasn't human anymore; that thing would have killed anyone it came into contact with. You had to do it."

"But all I can see is her face. That beautiful child. That _innocent _child. It won't go away, oh, I just want it to stop."

Dean suddenly realised he was crying too under the sheer weight of his crushing helplessness. His complete inability to salve the pain his father was in. A man he loved so dearly who was suffering so much. Neither of them knew how they could ever deal with this.

And so they sat there on the cold kitchen floor.


	9. Their Tears are Filling up Their Glasses

**Their Tears are Filling up Their Glasses**

[Title from Mad world by Tears for Fears - although I prefer the Gary Jules version personally]

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed - it really does make my day! Also, just to add, I understand if people aren't really into my OC - I would not have her if it wasn't vital to the story. Rest assured she is _not_ going to be the focus, that said I have attempted give her _some_ personality. Sorry x_

Sam hadn't woken up until the next morning. He had been exhausted when they had arrived back and just crashed on the bed without even changing his clothes. It wasn't so much physical tiredness it was just that it had been kind of momentous for him.

His first proper party, in the grownup sense of the word. It was a party with alcohol and underage sex and no parental supervision. Okay so he hadn't been drinking or having sex himself but it had definitely been going on. His popularity was about to go way up. And then of course there was Louise his first real girlfriend. Ah, life was sweet, he almost felt like a normal kid.

Sure his dad was probably about to come piss on his parade by forcing a handgun or a crossbow on him and treating him like a warrior instead of a son but right now he didn't care. He could send him out to fight a werewolf unarmed and he'd still be in this state of bliss.

It was a gorgeous autumn morning and there was sun shining in the window and golden leaves littering the ground outside. He suddenly realised he was actually looking forward to the 10k run his father imposed every weekend. Come to think of it, where was their dad? It was 10 o'clock, they were usually woken by John at 6am to get up and ready for their run.

Maybe he had decided to take pity after their night out. Wait, that didn't sound like John Winchester at all. He would more likely have got them up extra early to punish them for wanting to do something as frivolous and non-hunting related as going to a party.

A pang of worry reverberated around his chest. He ripped the covers off and systematically searched the motel (which didn't take very long) finding it empty. He finally noticed the note tacked to the back of the front door. It said: 'Gone for run. Stretch when you've eaten breakfast. If we aren't back by the time you're done then start running stairs.'

Well that was weird, since when did Dean and dad start running without him? He shrugged figuring there was no point agonising until they got back. The note was written by Dean so maybe he had managed to convince their dad that he needed a lie in; that was the type of thing Dean did when he knew Sam needed a break. Not that he needed one today but he certainly appreciated the sentiment.

XXXXX

They had left the house at 5am or there about. Neither of them had been asleep, neither able to fully recover from the burdens that weighed so heavily upon them. So they had made the decision to get out of the house and do some training without a word being exchanged. Dean was nowhere near being up for any real sparring; it would have led to him doing more damage no matter how gentle John was. So they decided to go running like they did most weekends except this time they were pushing a lot harder and faster and further.

They ran until they literally could not run any further. Until they were on the ground throwing up and exhausted, then they picked themselves up and ran back. It was both hellacious and cathartic. They both felt a lot better by the time they made it back to the motel.

They found Sam in his sweats running the outdoor stairs to the upper level of the motel before dropping to the ground and doing sit-ups. He jumped up the moment he finally noticed Dean and John coming toward him.

"Jesus Christ, you to look like hell! Where did you guys go?"

"Running." Dean said as he all but feel to the ground, panting and flushed.

"Well thank you Captain Obvious, I see that," Sam laughed good-naturedly, "but that wasn't quite what I meant."

"I know." Dean said still choosing not to elaborate. Sam rolled his eyes knowing he wasn't going to be getting a straight answer anytime soon.

"You sure you should be pushing so hard while you're so banged up?" Sam asked changing topics.

"You don't even know how far we went."

"You and Dad look like you might pass out any second and you've been gone for hours. Plus you two are still on the ground recovering when you'd normally be doing push-ups or running stairs."

"Whatever." Sam couldn't help but laugh at his brother gruff evasion; he was such an idiot sometimes.

"You know what; I'm gonna grab you two some water before you really do pass out." Sam said jogging into the kitchen. It was a testament to how over-exerted they were that they didn't stop him and get it themselves.

Something was going on with those two and it was unnerving Sam. There had been something off since that day Dean had got hurt. He hadn't noticed at first, too wrapped up in his own indignation but it was becoming increasingly obvious. Normally if Dean was injured he had the good sense to not go overboard on training; he wanted to get back to full strength as quick as possible and aggravating injuries was not the way to get there. And their dad usually was pretty strict with Dean about that kind of thing anyway.

Not this time though apparently, no; this time John was along for the ride. What was going on? It annoyed Sam no end that they weren't telling him; not that they ever did of course. It was like they thought he some freaking baby who couldn't handle anything. He was thirteen now, he could handle a hell of a lot; stuff most adults probably couldn't. This need to know BS their dad threw at them all the time was getting more and more infuriating by the day, and now Dean? Come on!

He came back out of the motel with the two waters in his hands feeling seriously grumpy. When he saw Dean heaving over the bin he forgot all about that and rushed over concerned.

"Is he okay?" he asked John sounding a little panicked.

"He's fine," John said rubbing Dean's back, "he just over did it some, that's all."

Dean, when he was finally done, sank to the ground taking the bottle Sam offered him. His face was contorted with pain.

"Oh God, I think I'm empty now. I start retching again please take pity and shoot me."

"Drama queen much there Dean?" Sam said trying to cheer him up some. Dean laughed sounding more than a little hoarse.

"Right, I think you need to go lie down buddy." said John.

"Well I would but I don't think I could walk a single step right now. I think I might just lie here for, oh, a few hours." said Dean sounding truly pathetic.

"Nice try, up now." John said sounding amused but firm. "If I can move so can you."

"Hey, some of us are not 100% here." Dean said accusingly, then looking like he wished he hadn't said it.

Sam was confused by the look that passed between his brother and father. John looked... guilty? Again: what the hell was going on?

John stood up abruptly yanking Dean up with him.

"You gonna walk or am going to have to carry you?" John said making it sound like a threat.

"Fine fine I'm going!" Dean said dejectedly ambling toward the house.

Sam waited until Dean was in the house before turning to his father and vocalising what had been bothering him.

"What is going on between the two of you? And don't say 'nothing' because I'm not an idiot."

"Leave it alone Sam."

"For heaven's sake! Can't you just..."

"Sam!"

"No! I'm a part of this family too! If something's..."

"SAM! Last warning!" John yelled.

"Or what? Huh? Why does everything have to some big secret with you! And don't say it's none of my business because it damn well is! What concerns you and Dean concerns me too!"

"JUST WHO IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TALKING TO..."

"DAD!" came Dean's voice from their door as he rushed back outside. "Would both you two both cool it."

Dean had put himself between Sam and John putting hand on both of their chests keeping them firmly apart. His eyes were staring into John with a fierce intensity that left John in no doubt that Dean would kill him if he so much as put a hand on Sam.

John turned away letting out a harsh breath. Then without a word set off running. Sam just looked on dumbly. He knew there had been some kind of silent conversation between Dean and John but for the life of him he didn't know what. He looked to his brother questioningly. Dean just scrubbed his hand through his hair looking exhausted and angry.

"I'm taking a shower." He said quietly. "And please, don't wind-up dad when he gets back, okay? I'll make you some lunch when you're done working out."

Sam watched Dean walk away feeling frustrated. But he also felt guilty and he wasn't even sure why.

XXXXX

John had returned at about 1.30, he had gone straight into the bathroom and taken a shower. When he had dressed and changed he had left without saying a word to either of his sons. Dean knew where John was going, it was written all over his face. He was going to a bar to get drunk. Dean knew he'd probably get a call from a bartender some time later that night to go pick his father up from the floor, or worse a call from the police. He was struck again by that feeling of helplessness.

He braced himself with both hands on the edge of the sink. He sagged with a loud sigh that he just couldn't contain. He was just so tired, so tired his goddamn bones ached just holding his body upright. He heard Sam come up behind him.

"You're okay, right?" Sam asked in such a small voice Dean found himself turning around a wrapping his little brother in a tight hug.

"Yeah Sam, I'm fine." He said quietly.

"Promise?" Sam said reminding Dean of when he'd been 5 and he had explained that thunder storms were nothing to be afraid of. Then he had been so confident, so sure. This time he wasn't though, this time he wasn't at all. So he stayed silent, rested his head atop his brothers feeling Sam's fingertips tighten around him. They then broke apart and he told Sam he was going to take a nap walking away leaving Sam confused and alone in the kitchen before he could ask him anymore questions.

And then he finally managed to sleep.

XXXXX

The inevitable phone call to come get his father came at 11 o'clock. Given that John had been drinking for hours at this point Dean was a little apprehensive as to what he might find. But the call was from a bar not a police station so that was something.

He arrived at the bar that looked kind of grubby but had a decent amount of customers in it so he guessed it couldn't be that bad. He saw his father propped up at the bar obviously absolutely slaughtered which was what he expected he supposed. Didn't stop him feeling oddly disappointed though.

"Dad?" he said somewhat tentatively, unsure of the man's mood at this point.

"Dean?" John said sounding confused, "What are you doing here? This is a bar."

"Yeah dad, I know that. I'm..."

"But you're not supposed to be here, this is a place for grown-ups Dean. What are you doing here?" he turned to the bartender abruptly switching the topic of conversation, "Barkeep, this is my son! A beer for my eldest!"

The barman looked unsure as John threw his arms out expansively; Dean felt a headache coming on.

"Don't worry about it." He said to the barman. "Dad, I came to take you home. Why don't..."

"Dean! A beer for my son, NOW!" The bartender apparently decided it wasn't worth the hassle denying the unstable looking man's request and uncapped a bottle and put it on the bar. Dean didn't touch it.

"Dad, we need to go."

"What, you're not even gonna have one beer with your old man?"

"Dad, I think you've had quite enough already and I have to drive home so maybe another night, okay?"

"NO!" John yelled apparently having lost all awareness of his volume causing a few heads to turn. "One beer isn't gonna put you over the limit, now drink up!"

Dean sat down and picked up the beer taking a quick sip.

"Okay, one beer and we go then?"

"Well I would but this _jackass_ won't give me my keys."

"That's because you're way too drunk buddy." said the bartender.

"Drunk? I am not drunk! So I've had a few, that doesn't mean I'm drunk. Maybe I have a higher threshold than you, huh? Bet you hadn't thought about that had you _buddy_." The argument was made considerably less convincing by the heavy slurring in John's voice. Dean was hit by another wave of exhaustion; something more than physical.

"Okay fine, you're not drunk, that's excellent we still need to go home though."

"Not until we've finished are drinks." John demeanour was swinging wildly from jovial to aggressive. Dean hated the unpredictability of his father when he was drunk; it gave him a sense of foreboding, the absolute surety that things were going to end badly. It was even worse in public because then he had to pre-empt the idiotic moves of everyone around them too.

"Dad..."

"Don't even start! Drink your damn drink."

"Great. Well this is fun." Dean muttered under his breath. He turned to the bartender and said quietly, "How 'bout you give me his keys. Don't worry I have no intention of giving them to him."

"Okay. You sure you're gonna be okay dealing with him. I can get one of the guys on the door to give you a hand out to the car if you want."

"Nah, it's okay and trust me he might be drunk as all hell but he would still put half the bar on its ass." The barman looked doubtful but nodded anyhow tossing him the keys. Dean finished his beer with one long swig.

"Okay, well I'm all done," he said holding up the empty bottle as proof, "time to hit the road."

"Come on Dean, it's not like you to wanna leave early. How 'bout me an' you play a bit of pool or something?"

"Dad, can you even see straight?" Dean snapped losing his temper somewhat.

"Watch your mouth." Dean just rolled his eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm down.

"We're leaving. Now." he said through gritted teeth.

"_You_ do not get to order _me_ around." John said shoving Dean. Dean finally lost it grabbing his father's hand and spinning him around so that he was slammed into the bar with his arm out behind him. Dean bent John's twisted hand toward his wrist as far as it would go controlling his father effectively. A bar stool had crashed to the floor and glass had been smashed.

"Well tonight I am, okay? I am too damn tired for this! So how about you stop acting like a child and snap the hell out of it! What you think you're the only one in the whole world who has shit to deal with, huh? Get over yourself!"

In hindsight this may not have been the smartest thing in the world but Dean was at the end of his tether at this point. He was not however overly surprised at his father reaction though either.

John kicked back at Dean's knee escaping his son's grip as he inevitably dropped to the floor in pain. Luckily Dean had anticipated his father's move just before he had made avoiding a shattered kneecap but unable to avoid the blow entirely. Grabbing Dean's collar John pulled back his fist and was about to land a dizzying blow but was stopped by the crunch-crunch of a shotgun. He turned back to see it aimed at his head from the other side of the bar. Apparently the guy had taken heed of Dean's warning after all.

"Okay, hold it right there buddy. Either you leave right now or you brain becomes wall decoration."

Dean and his father made eye contact, well this seemed like somewhat of an overreaction. John seemed to sober up some, nodded dumbly and walking toward the exit. Dean got up to follow suit when the bartender lowered the gun and asked him to hold up just a second. Dean looked at him warily, aware that the whole bar was staring, unsure whether he should bolt or hear the man out. The bartender seemed to read this as fear and slowly put gun down under the bar.

"It's okay," he said like he was dealing with a spooked horse, "I'm not gonna hurt you alright, I just want a quick word okay."

The hubbub in the bar was building up again as the patrons realised the drama was over. Dean decided to see what the guy had to say. He followed the bartender round to the back of the bar.

"Look, I'm real sorry okay. My dad's just havin' a tough time right now, I'll make sure he doesn't come back. I'll pay for any damage if..."

"Hey hey I'm not angry okay, I just... I wanted to make sure you're alright."

"Me? I'm fine. That kick was nothing, it barely connected."

"Oh yeah? Why are you limping then, huh? And that wasn't what I meant and you know it. I can see the damage that's been done to your face and I'm not an idiot. What did you do to deserve that then, huh? I've been where you are and I know it's hard to see this now but it ain't your fault no matter what that man says."

"Whoa, whoa. You got this all wrong okay. It's all fine, nothing like that's going on; all this," Dean indicated his face, "this was from a fight I got into okay? I picked a fight with a jock and all his mates joined in..."

"Cut the crap okay. Even if that were true I just saw him about to beat the crap out of you and we both know it."

"No, that was my fault, I started it. I was the one who slammed him into the bar..."

"Not before he shoved you... you know what you obviously aren't ready to talk about this yet. So I'll tell you what; how 'bout I just give you my number and you promise to call me if you're in trouble, okay?"

Dean looked at the man, unsure whether to accept the offer or not. Then he decided maybe he ought to, for Sammy sake if nothing else, just in case.

"Okay." He said quietly before adding, "Well, I'd better go before my dad remembers he keeps a spare set of keys in his truck."

"Sure thing and remember anytime, anytime at all." The guy said emphatically before handing Dean a scrap of paper with a hastily written number and the name 'Jeb'.

Jeb watched the kid walk away wondering if he'd read about him one day in the paper: Kid beaten to death by father.


	10. And Why Must I Pay for Your Mistakes?

The next week passed slowly for Dean. His lunchtimes filled with detentions and things between him and Lindsay awkward although he wasn't sure why. Then of course there was the unbearable tension at home. Sam was sulking, John was silent and Dean was just exhausted. He had almost been relieved when John had announced he had to go out of town for a few days chasing some lead in his latest case.

The first Monday after his detentions had finished he decided he needed some quality time with Lindsay to sort things out before he went insane. It would help if he the faintest clue what the problem was of course, but then it wasn't like that had stopped him before.

"Hey Linds!" he called when he saw her leave the lunchroom.

"Dean, you out of detention already?" she said not sounding altogether thrilled

"Yep, today's my first day as a free man." She hadn't been able to stop herself laughing at that.

"Drama queen much?" she said forgetting she was trying to ignore him.

"Ha! Like you can talk."

"Whatever." She said stopping herself from getting sucked in by Dean's charm, starting to walk away.

"What the hell! Where are you going? Why are you running away?"

"Look, I can't do this okay, so just leave me alone."

"What? Can't do what? I don't understand what's wrong. Did we have a fight and I forgot about it or something, I don't think I've had any too bad concussions lately..."

"Don't even joke Dean!" Lindsay snapped angrily.

"Whoa! What the hell?"

"God Dean, just leave it okay. Just leave me alone!" With that she ran into the girls' locker room letting the door slam and Dean standing in the corridor, completely at a loss as to what had just happened.

XXXXX

When Sam met Dean at the end of the day he knew something was wrong straight away.

"Okay, what happened?"

"Nothing." Dean said his voice hard.

"Well that's a load of Bull. What happened? You know I'm just gonna keep bugging you 'til you tell me; it's practically in the rules of being a little brother." Dean sighed dramatically before giving in.

"It's Lindsay, she had this major blow out at me over God knows what and now she's not talking to me."

"Wait... did I just hear right? The great Dean Winchester having girl troubles that doesn't involve getting caught dating multiple girls. Well this has to be a first."

"Shut up. You're supposed to give me advice not laugh at me."

"Who said I can't do both?" Dean just glared at him, "Okay, okay, geez oversensitive much. Well how 'bout you try asking her what's wrong."

"Well like I said she won't talk to me, makes it kinda hard don't you think Einstein? And they say you're the brains in the family."

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Maybe, depends if you got anything good. Come on Sam, how 'bout you put some of that huge brain to something worthwhile?" Sam snorted at Dean's utter contempt for anything schoolwork related; of _course_ he thought girls were more important than say the ability to spell.

"Okay, I think you need to corner her, make her talk to you – and I'm not saying threaten her or anything before you even go there! Let her know how important she is as a friend and she'll crack for sure. I mean she obviously likes you, not that I have the faintest clue why." Sam said and was rewarded with a punch to the arm.

"I can't believe I'm taking advice from my little brother. You know me and her are just friends right? We're not like dating or anything."

"Holy crap! Call the newspapers Dean Winchester wants to be _just friends_ with a girl!"

"Shut up!" Dean said punching Sam again in the exact same spot, hard, before adding softly, "She's way too good for me anyhow."

Sam just stayed quiet, smiling at his brother but underneath he was hit by a wave of sadness that Dean felt that way. It was so unfair; Dean should be allowed to be happy. Dean knew that sooner or later they'd have to up and move, that they'd have to leave everyone behind and he didn't want to get too deeply involved because that way no-one would get hurt.

Sure he screwed around but he made it clear that there was no emotional investment with those girls. Sam didn't exactly approve of Dean's antics but he didn't have any sympathy for the girls either if they turned around and cried over Dean because they knew what they were getting into, so they couldn't really complain.

"Okay, so what do you want for dinner?" asked Dean snapping Sam out of his reverie. "We can stop and get pizza if you like."

"You sure we've got enough money for that?"

"Its fine, dad left plenty and he'll only be gone a few days anyway."

"Yeah but he always says that; he could be gone for weeks."

"Sam..." Dean said warningly, "can we not have this conversation please. Worst case scenario I'll get us some more money when we need it okay? And it's not like we don't know how to make money last anyhow so would you chill out? If it makes you happy I can pay with my own money. I have a fair bit saved up you know."

No, Sam hadn't known that. Since when had Dean saved up money of his own? Well he supposed it shouldn't surprise him that much, I mean that was what normal people did right? They saved up. Still, Sam seriously doubted that Dean had told his father about this money else the man would have just taken it. John often treated Dean more like a resource than a son. He decided against saying any of that though since he was kind of glad plus it would only aggravate Dean and he didn't need that right now.

"Sure then, pizza sounds good. Maybe after you can get your act together and go talk to Lindsay."

XXXXX

After they had eaten and Dean had dropped Sam off home he decided that he might just take Sam's advice and go find out what he had done to upset her. He drove over to her house, arriving at around 6pm.

It was a medium sized, modern looking two story that was obviously well cared for. It was also obviously well loved; a family home with a nice lawn and well tended flower beds. It wasn't excessive and the work was probably done by the occupants themselves rather than paid help and that somehow made the place seem even nicer. Secretly it was the kind of place Dean wished he lived in. A real home, nothing fancy: just something... something that was _his_ instead of another crappy motel in a long line of crappy motels.

Not that he'd ever admit that out loud. Even in his head it sounded childish to him, some whimsical desire of something he'd never have. He needed to grow up, he was a realist and he knew he needed to just accept his place in this world and get over it. Wishes were for kids and movies.

He got out of the car and walked up to the door, feeling infinitely out of place standing on the porch. He almost felt like he might be tainting the place as he knocked on the door. He waited, listening intently for some kind of response.

For a second he wondered if maybe they were out, damn, he should have called ahead. He would have normally but he didn't want to give her the chance to tell him not to come. Geez, since when did he get so invested in a girl? Hell when did he get so invested in anyone whose surname wasn't Winchester?

God, if her parents answer they would probably bar him on sight. His face was still discoloured from last week and he was standing there in a battered leather jacket ripped jeans and biker boots. He might as well have "every parent's worst nightmare" tattooed on his forehead. He was about to leave when the door swung open so sudden Dean about had a heart attack.

"Hello?" came a sunny voice, "Oh, you're Lindsay's friend right, do you want me to get her for you?"

"Yes, as long as it's a good time Mrs Kale. You know I really shouldn't have just come by unannounced, that was rude maybe..." Mrs Kale interrupted Dean's bout of self-doubt mid sentence by waving her hands good naturedly.

"Oh nonsense – and call me Ruth. She's just upstairs, why don't you go on up?"

"Sure, thanks." He replied. Dean was hit by another wave of longing at Mrs Kale's undeniably maternal... everything. She seemed to be everything a mother should be; the way she looked, the sound of her voice, the way she perpetually had that look of 'I could just hug you' on her face.

He went up the stairs as quietly as possible, acutely aware of how dirty his boots seemed wishing that he'd taken them off at the door. He knocked on Lindsay's door that could easily be distinguished from the others by the fact she had her name on it.

"Linds?" he called.

"Dean! What are you doing here?"

"Okay, not quite the warm welcome I was looking for but hey..."

"Dean, I thought I made myself clear at school!" Lindsay hissed not wanting her parents or her brother to hear.

"No. You yelled at me and then ran away, so no you were really clear at all."

"Dean, come in, I don't want to have this discussion in the middle of the hall way." She said yanking him into her room.

"Look, if I've done something to upset you then I'm really sorry..."

"You didn't do anything wrong okay, I just... I like you!"

"_Okaaaaay_, not exactly seeing the problem here. I like you too, you're my best friend, well, my only real friend but that shouldn't detract from the whole 'best friend' thing really. I'm just choosy you see." Dean joked.

"No Dean, I _like_ you but I can't go there."

"Why not?" said Dean trying not to feel hurt.

"Because, because of this..." she said sweeping her hands expansively indicating his body.

"What? My body... what's wrong with my body?"

"That's not what I mean. I mean look at your face..."

"You have a problem with ruggedly handsome people now?"

"Dean this is not a joke! Can't you be serious for one second? I'm talking about the bruises! I know what happened and I know you're acting like it's nothing but it isn't 'nothing'!"

"So what? You're cutting all ties because of that! How is that any of your concern anyway?"

"Because it's too hard to see you like this!"

"You know what that is so unfair!" Dean hissed turning away.

"I want this to be something serious, but you are always keeping me at arm's length! All I do is worry about you! Every time you miss a day of school I'm terrified that you're in the hospital or worse; DEAD!"

"All this over a few bruises!"

"It is not 'just a few bruises' and you know it. You're always coming in to school limping or looking like you've had two shades of shit kicked out of you! I'm not blind Dean!"

"Why is this _such_ a big deal to you? You can't just stop being my friend, it isn't fair! Why am I being punished? I didn't do anything wrong!"

"I'm sorry... I just can't, I care too much to see you do this to yourself. I know how selfish this is but... I just. You keep getting into fights and I know why you're doing it too; you need an excuse for all the damage. What better to hide behind than you're bad boy reputation?"

"Linds... please..."

"All you do is keep secrets! I don't even know where you live! Secrets and lies..."

"When have I ever lied to you? This is ridiculous! You're acting crazy!"

"Get out... I SAID GET THE HELL OUT!" she yelled picking up a snow globe from her nightstand and hurling it at the door behind Dean. He ducked even though it missed him by a mile smashed loudly against the wood. The noise sent the Mr Kale rushing upstairs but Dean didn't even notice.

"No... Linds please don't do this... you're the only good thing I have right now... please..." Dean begged, tears threatening.

"Lindsay! Are you okay? What happened?" came the booming voice of Adam Kale, Lindsay's father.

"Dean, just leave."

"Please, this isn't fair..."

"She asked you to leave, now get the hell out." Mr Kale demanded.

"Wait, you don't understand, I just need a minute..."

"Dean! I told you already!"

"I'm the one who got hurt not you!"

"I know! What happens when he goes too far? Look at you. And don't bother telling me it won't happen again because we both know it will!"

"You don't know that, you don't know anything. Please, I need you, I can't lose you."

"Okay, somebody needs to tell me what's going on right now." Mr Kale said his face caught between anger and confusion as he put himself between Dean and his daughter.

"Dean's fa..."

"Don't you dare! You promised, you promised me you wouldn't!"

"Don't ever speak to my daughter like that."

"I'm not... I'm sorry... I just..."

"God Dean, this is the problem! It is killing me keeping you're damn secret and it's killing you too. You are so damn angry and so damn sad. You think I don't see the pain in your eyes? If you won't let me help you then... well this is all I can do." Lindsay ended with tears falling down her face.

"I can't..." Dean whispered his voice breaking painfully. Then he just turned and left wishing he could close his ears to the sobs coming from Lindsay's room as she collapsed into her father tight hug.

Dean finally gave in and let out a sort of strangled sob when he made it to the front seat of his car. Then he let out a howl of anger and pain and frustration before unleashing it on his car in a flurry of fists, slamming them into the car as hard as he could. He was left panting and breathless. He wiped the tears from his face, leaning back on the seat, tilting his head back and looking up to the ceiling of the Impala. He took a deep breath trying to calm down.

He had to go home to Sammy and he couldn't go there like this. He didn't want his brother worrying about him; the kid seemed to be stressed enough as it was. He would have liked to just switch on the engine and just driven until his bones ached but he couldn't; that would use up a lot of gas and despite what he had implied to Sam earlier he knew they had to be very careful with money, their dad was far too unpredictable to assume he'd only be gone a few days.

Dean finally started the engine having made the decision to stop at the store to stock up for the week. Much as it annoyed Sam when Dean did these types of shops without him it just made it so much cheaper and infinitely less stressful.

He stopped at the first cheap looking supermarket he saw. It was just another depressing looking place, one of those nameless faceless supermarkets they always seemed to shop at. The kind of place only people who were really struggling to make ends shopped.

Dean felt so... hollow. As he wandered around the store he wondered if everyone could see the emptiness inside him. He was so utterly overwhelmed with a feeling of loss. He suddenly realised he had just sat down on the floor in the middle of the cereal aisle. He just couldn't seem to summon the energy to get back up. An elderly looking employee saw him and came over looking concerned. Probably thought he was some junky nodding out on his shop floor. It seemed like the kind of place where things like that weren't so uncommon.

"You alright there, son?" he asked sounding altogether more kindly than Dean had expected, maybe Dean shouldn't be so cynical.

"Yeah, sorry, just give me a sec." Dean said flashing the closest thing to a smile he could summon wondering what in the hell he was doing.

"You want some coffee kid? My name's Keith." The man said obviously hoping for reciprocation. Dean figured what the hell.

"Dean." he said in answer to the silent question. The second smile he gave was much closer to the real thing. "I'm okay but thanks for the offer."

"If you're sure." Keith eyed Dean, taking in his condition. "You know if you need a place to sleep there's a shelter a block from here. I know the guy who runs it so I could probably swing you a bed."

Dean smiled again, this time truly genuinely. Funny how one small act of kindness can really restore a person's faith in the world.

"I'm fine, honestly. But really thank you."

"That's quite okay young man. D'you think you can get up?"

"Yeah, I'm good now. I just needed a moment." He said standing picking up the half filled basket he had been carrying.

By the time Dean arrived home he was actually feeling a bit better. Everything was still a mess but hey, it wasn't the end of the world.


	11. Dum Spiro Spero

_A/N: Aaaah! So sorry guys - I being a complete noodle managed to accidentally post chapter 8 instead of 11 *Smacks head against desk* SORRY! Here is the real chapter 11. _

Friday morning was a long time coming for Dean. He was still getting the deep freeze from Lindsay and he just wanted the damn week to end. It didn't exactly help that Sam was apparently head over heel in love with Louise. Still he tried to be supportive, plus he liked to take credit for that particular union at every possible moment. Sam owed him!

It was lucky their dad wasn't home because if he was Sam would not be getting half the time Dean was giving him to see Louise, or _any_ of the money Dean gave him to take her out. Or the rides, come to think of it Dean was starting to feel like some kind of a pimp. Scratch that, he was the most awesome brother ever.

Sam being in such an excellent mood had its advantages for Dean of course. Sam had decided to start cooking breakfast for both himself and Dean which was a nice change since Dean tended not to function well enough in the morning to produce much more than coffee and burnt toast. Also it felt like a long time since Sam had been anything other than brooding and sulky, okay maybe that was a little unfair but hey, he was brighter than sunshine at the moment so it didn't really matter.

Their dad had decided to call and check in which was a nice surprise. Nice to know he was still alive after all. He told Dean he needed him to meet up with him that weekend to give him a hand dealing with his latest job which definitely perked Dean up. He decided it would be a great outlet for some of the aggression that had been building in his system.

He was feeling a lot more positive by the time he dropped Sam off, waving his little brother off he found himself laughing at the goofy grin on his face. Ah, young love.

He was walking through the parking lot when Miss Dane caught up with him. He tried valiantly to contain a sigh but failed miserably.

"Dean."

"Miss Dane, illicit meetings in the parking lot! Better be careful, _everyone_ will be talking."

"Dean." She said warningly but her voice held no real threat. "I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"Me, I'm just dandy? And how are you this fine morning." She looked at him with a raised eyebrow but he ignored her silent plea for him to be serious.

"Well... I'm fine thank you. So, how are the counselling sessions going?" she asked gentle. He didn't even bother to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"Ah yes, counselling. Well my second session is today but I sure am glad to hear that apparently _everyone_ knows." He said irritably.

"Oh Dean, don't worry; only a couple of the staff know and you know anything you say is totally confidential, right?"

"Well now that's not entirely true and we both know it. Well much as I've enjoyed our little chat I have to get to class so I shall see you later." He said his voice exaggeratedly sweet. He felt her eyes on his back as he walked away, pity had been practically emanating from them the whole time. God he hated being pitied, it just pissed him off no end. Who were they to make judgements on him? Maybe they should save their damn pity for their own shitty lives. Pity was just a damn insult.

Rationally he knew she was well intentioned and didn't really deserve his ire, she was probably a lovely person but hey; nobody was perfect least of all him.

He cursed to himself as he remembered the stupid counselling he to go to today. Last Friday he had sat there silently for an hour. The guy obviously thought he would crack under the silence but he had no idea who he was dealing with. Sure Dean talked a lot normally, too much Sam would likely claim, but that was because Dean knew how to use talking as a weapon. It was a skill that had served him well on multiple occasions. Admittedly these times had mostly been winding up Sam or as a tool to help him swindle unwitting pool opponents, but one day he figured him might use his powers for good.

One day.

Not today though. 11am on the dot he was ushered into the counsellor office. Today he decided he would confuse the guy by talking nonstop about utter rubbish. He would have to be careful though, he didn't want the man to read anything into his words. He figured at first the guy would think he had made some kind of breakthrough and got him talking, only to be sorely disappointed fairly swiftly. Last week silence had been his source of power and an effective one at that. This time he would use his words. Well if he was going to have to suffer through this so was the other guy in the room; he hoped he would eventually annoy the guy into giving up and signing off on him. One can always dream right?

By the end of the session no matter how hard the counsellor tried to hide it he knew he was getting to him. He came out of the office thoroughly entertained. That'll show them for trying to push Dean Winchester around.

XXXXX

It had taken all of three days before Lindsay cracked and went to apologise to Dean. She caught up to him on the bleachers in their lunch break.

"Dean!" she called.

"Oh what, you're talking to me now. Should I be recording this in case I forget what your voice sounds like?" Dean snarked somewhat half-heartedly as he got up to leave. "Or did I lose the bleachers in the divorce?"

"Dean, wait up okay. Dean... Dean... Dean I'm sorry!" she yelled at his retreating form causing him to come to an abrupt stop.

"What, so you think you can just apologise and everything goes back to how it was before?" he said with anger in his voice.

"Dean please, I just... I freaked out a little okay..."

"Oh well in that case..." The sarcasm in his words was obvious and Dean continued to walk away.

"Dean... don't walk away...Dean... Dean you're my best friend, I need you!"

"What like I needed you, huh? When I needed you to be there for me and you told me to get out of your life! Everything was falling apart and you couldn't be there for me!"

"I know, I KNOW, OKAY!"

"NO YOU DON'T! You have no idea! You with your Apple Pie life, you don't even have the faintest clue!"

"So why don't you tell me! I'm here okay, I'm here." She finished quietly finally having caught up with him and laying a gentle hand on his face. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes.

"Don't say it of you don't mean it." He said looking her straight in the eyes. She saw this for what it was and wrapped him in a hug.

"I'm so sorry." Dean finally smiled; one of those real megawatt smiles that lit up his face and he kissed her cheek.

"Okay, enough with the chick flick moments okay? How 'bout we go do something we shouldn't? We haven't done anything to piss off the school admin for over a week; we don't want them getting complacent now do we?" Dean said with a Cheshire cat grin covering his face. Lindsay was a little thrown by the change in mood. Like Dean had flicked a switch and all the raw emotion was gone, replaced by that joking charm.

She wondered if his ability to detach like that should worry her. Long periods of detachment, the outbursts of anger, the way he was constantly 'on guard'; she was pretty sure these were all symptoms of PTSD. She wondered what had happened to him, or more accurately, what _else_ had happened to him. But now wasn't the time; not when they were already on such tenuous ground.

So off they went to cause mischief and mayhem. Something that was Dean's forte and hers too as she had discovered, after Dean had corrupted her of course. She was a 'straight A' student and one of the advantages of that was that she was never suspected. Dean was always suspected whenever anything went wrong even of it was ludicrous to even think of him, but with her as an alibi they were set.

XXXXX

Sam knew instantly Dean was somehow responsible, no matter how peripherally, when Black Sabbath came blaring over the school Tannoy system half way through his English class. He rolled his eyes; his brother was such a child. All thoughts of Dean went out the window of course when he looked to the left and caught Louise staring at him with dreamy eyes. He felt himself blush and was unable to contain a smile. Man, she had pretty eyes; so huge and blue and innocent. And he really needed some innocence in his life at the moment it seemed. Dean of course would laugh at him and leeringly state something about that not being the most important _assets_ she had.

Whatever.

He felt something hit his arm gently and looked down to see a piece of paper had been thrown at him. Unfolding it he read the words 'Come over tonight Love Louise'. Well now that wasn't an offer he was likely to refuse. It wasn't an entirely salacious response either; he liked going over to her house and having dinner, being involved in such a normal family ritual. He found himself desperately hoping that one day he could have a home like this, with stupid trinkets cluttering the place and photos on the wall.

He sent back a note saying, 'I'll have to get permission but sure'. Louise nodded. Aware that he would have to ask as his family apparently kept him on a tight leash. She didn't really mind though, she just wanted to spend time with him. He was so sweet; he might be the most thoughtful, kind boyfriend she'd ever had. Even her parents liked him which was definitely a first. Plus he was hot and mysterious. And then there was his older brother, the bad boy who everyone was talking about. _She_ got to take a ride in that car with the coolest guy in the history of their school! Her friends were all _so_ jealous.

She had been trying to casual hint she wanted an invite back to his place but so far he hadn't picked up on it. Or maybe he didn't want her over there which just made her more curious. The bell finally rang and she rushed straight over to Sam.

"So, d'you think Dean will let you come?" she asked. She still wasn't quite sure why it was Sam's brother who got to make that decision. Come to think of it she'd never actually seen his dad, did they even have a dad? Okay this probably wasn't the time.

"Hopefully, I'll ask him before next period if I can. You know I'm gonna have to run actually if I'm gonna catch him so I'll speak to you soon okay?" And with that he kissed her chastely on the lips and smiled as he rushed off.

She clutched her folders tightly to her chest and just barely contained a giggle of delight. She loved the way he did that; it was somehow so confident and grown-up. A couple of her friends descended on her to gossip and she was more than happy to oblige.

Sam on the other hand was running along the corridor to get to Dean's classroom before he did. He needed have bothered rushing, his brother was apparently perpetually late, which he supposed he knew already but his keenness had gotten in the way of clear thought. They knew each other schedules back to front on their dad's orders so he knew he was in the right place even if Dean wasn't. Crap, now he was going to be late.

The silly thing was when _he_ was late he was terrified he would get in trouble but was very unlikely to being as he was such a star pupil, whereas if _Dean_ was late he didn't give a rat's ass but was _very _likely to get in trouble even if he had a totally legitimate reason.

Finally Dean showed up not looking in the least bit concerned about his tardiness. Dean's expression instantly morphed into one of deep concern when he saw his brother.

"Sam, what are you doing here? Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

"Dean, calm down everything's fine I just wanted to ask you something."

"Okay..." Dean said sounding slightly suspicious.

"Dean, seriously everything is totally okay, I... it's just Louise invited me over tonight and I wanted to ask you if it's okay."

"Ha! Sam you sly dog, I knew you had it in you!" Dean laughed. Sam punched him in the arm.

"Shut up! It's not like that... I'm thirteen Dean, THIRTEEN," he enunciated, "it's just dinner or something at her house."

"Whatever you say Sammy. Oh crap, I'm really sorry dude, _believe me_, but you can't..."

"What! Why not? Oh _crap!_" Sam had forgotten about dad call."You know, why don't you just not tell dad? I mean I'd only be holed up in the motel anyway, he'd never know." Sam said trying to sound convincing.

"Sam..."

"I mean come on, what could you really do if you were at home anyway? And anyway I'd probably be safer with Louise and her family than alone at the motel..."

"What you gonna be armed over there? You planning on throwing down a couple of salt lines, huh?" Sam responded with only a huff. "I'm sorry Sam, okay? You know dad would kill me if he knew. Hell, if he knew how much I let you go out already he'd probably kick my ass."

"But, Dean come on..."

"Sam! Please don't make this any harder than it has to be. I've stuck my neck out for you enough as it is; don't you think you owe it to me to just do as I ask?"

"Fine." Sam said dejectedly knowing his brother was right and much as he hated having to miss out on a date with Louise it wasn't really fair on Dean for him to complain. Didn't mean he had to like it though.

"Oh God, promise me you aren't going to spend all weekend sulking. Brooding is not a way of life Sam." Dean said with mock seriousness but Sam could hear the teasing in his voice. Sam couldn't help but laugh. "That's better. I'll see you later loser. Huh, well look at that, Mr Perfect Student is being a bad influence and keeping me from my education."

Dean mock saluted him before making a... flamboyant... entrance to his class. Sam just rolled his eyes and set off at a run toward his next class.

XXXXX

At the end of the school day they had made it all the way to the parking lot when Lindsay's shout stopped them.

"Dean! Dean, wait up!"

"You two made up then" said Sam under his breath. Dean elbowed him to shut him up and Sam responded with a punch to the shoulder. Lindsay gave them an odd but amused expression and continued speaking.

"Dean, I uh... I wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight, you know to say sorry..."

"Linds, you don't have to apologise..."

"I know but I want to. Sam's invited too..." she added seeing the hesitation bloom across Dean's face.

"Lindsay I'm really sorry but we can't... another night though."

"Oh come on... please." She said sweetly.

"Look Linds, it's not that I don't want to believe me I just can't, okay?"

"He has to help dad, it's a work thing." Sam added intending to be helpful but from the look Dean shot him he guessed it had been the wrong thing to say.

"Dean..." Lindsay said the worry evident in her voice.

"Lindsay everything's fine, okay? You don't need to worry. Now we have to get home so I'll see you on Monday, alright?"

Dean grabbed Sam's arm to get him moving and they left before she had a chance to respond. Sam was silent for most of the car journey home but he kept glancing at his brother like he wanted to say something. When they got back to the motel it seemed Sam had gathered his thoughts and decided to articulate what was bothering him.

"Did you tell her?" he asked quietly.

"Tell her what?"

"About y'know... what dad does?"

"What! Of course not, why would you think that? Oh God, you didn't tell Louise did you?" asked Dean looking horrified.

"No! Do you think I _want _everyone to think I'm a complete freak?"

"And yet you seem to think I do? Why would you think I'd told her?"

"I just... she looked really worried when I said you were helping dad and I thought maybe..."

"Sam, no... just no. You know we can't tell people about that stuff."

"Then what was she so worried about? Is this something to do with whatever's going on between you and dad?"

"Sam, there's nothing 'going on' okay? Now you need to get your chores and training done."

"But Dean..."

"NOW SAM!" Sam recoiled at the harsh tone which he wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve but decided not to argue. Dean hadn't meant to snap at Sam but he just needed a little cooperation without question right now, he didn't want to deal with a thousand questions. He sighed trying to convey to Sam with a look that he wasn't angry with him he was just stressed. Sam accepted this with a nod and a slight smile.


	12. The Unforgiving and the Unforgivable

Dean left to meet up with John at around six and arrived by nine. John hadn't told him anything about the hunt or why his dad needed his help but that wasn't so unusual, his dad would fill him in when he was good and ready... hopefully.

As he walked up to the place his dad had been holed up he involuntarily scrunched up his nose in disgust. It was a real hole, not that they didn't spend a lot of time in places that were probably worse, it's just that there was something... seedy about this place that made him glad Sam wasn't here.

"Dad, it's Dean." He called rapping on the door. John yanked it open growling something vaguely like a hello; apparently he was not in the greatest of moods. He looked as though he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep since he had left.

"Put your duffle down over there," he said indicating the corner loosely with the wave of a hand, "we need to get going since you arrived so damn late."

"Right." Dean nodding trying not to take the gruff words too personally; he knew his dad was just under pressure. "So what's the deal?"

"Some moron decided to summon a demon to get rid of the competition for the promotion he wanted. Of course he lost control of the demon and it slit his wife and children's throats. Now he's in the local lock up because the cops think he killed his family, which I suppose he did, but I need to get the amulet he has around his neck and the whole jail thing makes that kinda awkward. See unfortunately I can't get in to see him as I managed to piss off the local dipshits, I mean _deputies_, so I need you to swipe it instead, okay?"

"Sure thing, you have some kind of a plan on that front?" he asked lightly suspecting he wasn't going to like the answer. He was right.

"Yeah, we need to get you arrested. I've got a false I.D. for you 'cos I don't want them havin' your real name obviously."

"So, what's my crime? A little arson or vandalism? Some petty theft perhaps?"

"Well, I wanna have you back out ASAP once you have the Amulet so nothing too serious, there's no point making things harder than they have to be. Drunk and disorderly?"

"What luck drunk and disorderly is my forte." Dean said with a cocky smirk.

There was a bar nearby the precinct that the two Winchester's figured it couldn't be too hard to get the cops attention. They knew they shouldn't be seen together so John was sat in the corner, close enough that he could back Dean up if thing got too far out of hand. It occurred to Dean that his father must have left out some details as to why he couldn't go to the police station himself but decided against inquiring further as it would be a waste of his breath.

Dean had to drink a fair amount to make the whole thing believable, ah the sacrifices he made. Then of course came the rowdy and obnoxious behaviour, something Dean had not lied about being good at. He was pretending to be absolutely trashed but really the alcohol had barely touched him. The cops arrived right on schedule.

"Okay buddy how about you calm down now?"

"_I_ am not your buddy... tiny man." Dean laughed 'drunkly'. Well, the guy was pretty short.

"Okay you need to go home. Stand up." Dean complied, standing over the cop, right up in his face.

"Okay..." he slurred, "Now _you_ stand up."

Up until then the guy had been pretty cool about things but as was often the case with short guys' height was a sensitive issue and Dean new just which buttons to press.

"You leave now or you're gonna be in a whole load of trouble." The deputy said angrily.

"Right," Dean snorted, "you gonna club together with the rest of the midgets?"

"One more word smartass."

"One more foot short-ass?" was the 'innocent' response.

And that was it, Dean's head was slammed into the bar and his hands were cuffed behind his back. Dean just laughed hysterically as though he found the whole thing hilarious. He caught his dad smirking in the corner pretending to ignore the whole scene so apparently he wasn't the only one who was amused.

XXXXX

The place stank thought Dean miserably; alcohol, vomit, blood and piss, ah, classic 'eau de drunk tank'. Still it wasn't so bad, at least the other inhabitants of the cell were mostly passed out at this point. He spotted their 'target' straight away; although he was in a separate cell what his being a crazy deranged murderer and all. Still they were only separated by a set of bars so that was okay. Dean would _not_ have been a happy camper if had gotten locked up for no reason.

Dean decided to get to business. He swaggered over to the despondent looking man who was sitting staring at the wall like he was seeing straight through it.

"Hey bud, what you in here for?"

"Leave me alone." The man said utterly flat, his voice matching his dead eyes. Dean pushed on regardless.

"Well now, that's not very friendly. This how you treat all your new neighbours? Well since I'm such a forgiving guy I guess I'll let that one pass." No response. "What was that? My name? Well I'm Dean, thank you so much for asking. What about you? Let me guess... Bob... NO Al, Alan, Alfred, Alana wait no that's a girl's name... um... ooh how 'bout George? No, okay what about..."

"Jesus Christ its Ken alright now will you just shut the hell up!" Ha, he always got them eventually.

"So, Ken what you in for? Me, I pissed off a cop, not that it was really my fault I mean geez, sensitive much? You make one 'short-joke' and you're in the slammer, that guy really needs to grow-up." Dean said laughing to himself at his own bad joke.

"He's not the only one apparently." Ken muttered under his breath. It wasn't exactly friendly but at least he was responding now and that was definitely something, now he just had to get the amulet.

Twenty minutes later he finally figured out a plan, not a great plan but a plan nonetheless. It wasn't exactly foolproof so he was going to have to just take a risk, he didn't exactly have a boat load of options here.

And here was his plan; get into the same jail cell as Ken and lift the amulet while he slept. He had considered trying to lift it from his cell but realised that logistically that wasn't going to happen. So much for sharing a wall of bars being good enough. The cot that Ken had in his cell was too far away for to get the amulet. To get onto the other cell, well, that would be the least pleasant part of the plan. Picking a fight and losing on purpose.

Now this can be harder than it sounds if the guy you pick a fight with couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. Not taking an opportunity to kick a guy's ass when he presented it was a harder instinct to quell than you might think. Of course if he equally didn't want to pick a guy who would beat him to a pulp so it was going to be tricky getting that balance right.

He glanced around the cell looking for someone who looked suitable and got... belligerent.

XXXXX

For a second after the deputies pulled him out he thought his plan might have failed miserably as they took him to a separate room that seemed to be an interrogation room. Apparently this was just where they were putting him while they cleaned him up.

Apparently he had managed to come out of this looking like the victim as opposed to the aggressor which was good. He had picked a guy who looked big and tough enough to make the deputies think there was no way he would have started the trouble. His nose was bleeding heavily but he didn't think his face would be particularly bruised. The guy had landed a few good blows on his abdomen and he knew there would be marks forming on his arms where the guy had held on too tight.

It was nothing to him but the cops seemed pretty concerned, although he didn't know whether the concern was for him or for the fact that a prisoner had been injured in custody and might be in trouble. But maybe he was being a little cynical.

"You all right?" the Deputy asked when Dean was sat down.

"I'm good." He said with a shrug being as nonchalant as possible hoping they'd put him back in the cells not take him to hospital.

"Here," he said throwing Dean some gauze, "use that for your nose. Don't want you passing out from blood loss now do we."

"It's a nose bleed not a gunshot wound, I'll be just fine thanks." he said lightly.

"Sure," the man said with a sympathetic smile, "you just slip your shirt off so I can take a few photos of you bruises and then I can take your statement."

"What statement?" Dean asked, confused.

"Well son, you were assaulted. We need to collect evidence and take your statement if you want to press charges." He replied. He obviously genuinely expected Dean to want all that, but seeing the look on Dean's face he seemed to switch gears. "Okay, let's start again, I'm Head Deputy Frank Dalton. Now I understand that you wouldn't give your details to any of my deputies, is that the reason you don't want to press charges? You been in some kinda trouble before?"

"Nope." Dean said calmly. Normally he might have been a little irritated at the assumption but the man said it without any malice or judgement in his voice, in fact he sounded more _kindly_ than anything else, maybe even concerned. Maybe he thought he was a runaway. "Look I'm fine okay, so just let me go back to the cells and forget about the whole thing."

"I'm not sure it's the wisest thing for you to go back into the same cell, not if you're planning on leaving in one piece. You sure have a knack for rubbing people up the wrong way."

Dean shrugged, trying not to smile as his 'plan' came together. "Well, no-one's perfect."

"Ain't that the truth. So shirt off, I am obliged by law to document the incident as we do any episode like this that happens in custody or y'know in case you want to press charges at a later date."

"Look, I really don't think that's necessary..."

"Well that makes one of us, so off with your shirt." Dalton said in a no-nonsense tone.

Dean closed his eyes knowing there was no way around this. Brilliant plan douche-bag. Nothing like photographic evidence when you're trying not to leave a trail. Maybe this wasn't such a big deal he couldn't stop the irrational fear that it would somehow get back to his school and then all hell would break loose. They were on shaky ground as it was; he just really didn't need this right now.

He slipped off his over-shirt and then the t-shirt underneath; feeling incredibly exposed standing there half naked, his awareness that there were still faded bruises and scars littering his torso just made it worse. He saw an expression he couldn't quite identify pass across the man's face.

"This is why you didn't want the photos then huh?" he said without inflection. "Well, I guess that saves me the bother of checking around to see if you were wanted on a warrant someplace."

Wow, it seemed Dean had dodged a bullet he hadn't even known was coming. He didn't have the police on his tail or anything but the fake ID his father was likely to bring with him might not have stood up a whole lot of scrutiny.

"So, you feel like telling me your name yet?" Dalton asked.

"You're gonna let me go tomorrow morning whether I tell you my name or not, so if it's all the same to you I think I'll just go back to my cell now please."

"Sure thing Cowboy." The man replied with a look of amusement on his face. This kid had _definitely_ been arrested before he thought but he didn't seem like a danger to anyone so Dalton let it go.

XXXXX

"Hey Kenny! Great news, looks like we're gonna be cell mates!" Dean said with a wide smile on his face.

"Don't call me Kenny." came the irritated response.

"Whatever Kenny." Dean said dropping the jubilant act and changing his whole demeanour to something altogether more threatening. This hadn't been his original plan but he suddenly had the urge to get out of this place as quickly as possible. He got in real close to Ken and started to whisper into his ear with a vicious tone. "Now you listen to me, I know what you did. Summoning something you didn't understand and getting the people who loved you the most killed you worthless piece of shit."

"What! Who are you?" Ken cried wide-eyed and terrified.

"I'm the guy that's here to try and save anyone else you put in danger you selfish asshole. Now give me that amulet you sorry excuse for a human before I really teach you a lesson. And you know what; I hope you spend the rest of your life suffering with the guilt of knowing you killed your own wife and child because you were too self-absorbed to put them before yourself. And don't think that because it wasn't by your own hand that it gives you the slightest bit of redemption or forgiveness. I hope you rot in jail for the rest of your sad pathetic life."

Ken just stood there frozen gaping like an idiot so Dean just snatched the amulet from his neck and had to restrain himself from actually smacking in the man face.

"You disgust me." He spat before yelling to one of the deputies, "Hey, I want my phone call!"

"You gonna ask like a civilised human being?"

"It's my legal right to make a phone call whether I ask nicely or not so... no" Dean said with a smirk.

The Deputy looked annoyed but could not deny the kid was right. He moved to the cell grumbling to himself as he unlocked it and shoved Dean out. Dean marched toward the phone picking it up out of its cradle and stabbing at the keys.

"Come get me." He said shortly before hanging up not bothering to wait for a reply. He knew this would likely come back to bite him but the hollow feeling of exhaustion prevented him from really caring.

He wasn't sure exactly what had set him off, maybe it was the knowledge of another happy family's pointless demise or maybe it was just the endless stream of misery he seemed to encounter. Or maybe he was just PMS like some little bitch, who knew... who cared?

XXXXX

His father looked distinctly unimpressed when he arrived but his expression soften somewhat when he saw the blood on his sons shirt and the look on his face that said he had had too much for one day, or one week, or one life. He knew he put too much on his son's shoulders but life wasn't fair and much as he hated it he couldn't seem to stop it.

Still it was time to put those thoughts in box and deal with the here and now. Hopefully he could extricate his son without too much difficulty. Then again given what the local LEOs already thought of him that might not be so easy. He took a deep breath and walked to the desk.

"John Donner, I'm here to pick up my son Dean."

"Is that so, well why am suddenly not surprised at that little ruffians behaviour all of a sudden. Wouldn't even tell us his name before; mind you, if you were my kin I wouldn't want to admit it either."

John stoically refused to react, offer a tight smile saying, "My son... now"

"Well it might take a little time, what with having to confirm his name and whatnot."

"Would it speed you up any to know that he is 16 and you've had a minor in custody without a parent or legal guidance? And he's not looking in very good shape either, let me take a wild guess and say he hasn't received proper medical attention."

"I... well it's not... I'm gonna go get my supervisor." The man said a little flustered.

A smug smile found his way onto John's face before he clamped down on it and tried to look suitably serious. He caught Dean doing the same thing but not quite so successfully from the bench which he was handcuffed to. John took a moment to wonder what his son was doing there as opposed to the cells. Finding no immediate answer, he decided to ask Dean since they were alone.

"Well after I took our little prize Kenny went a little... nutty. Luckily I was making my phone call when he decided to start screaming like a Banshee and throwing himself around like Sammy throwing wobbly when he was a toddler."

"So they put you out here?"

"Well this is a pretty small station and the other cell had the big bad drunk man who picked on little old me so it was here or letting me go. I actually think they might have let me go if hadn't have called you already, still, you're here now."

"Yeah, I am indeed. But if you ever speak to me like again or so much as think about hanging up on me then expect to find yourself sleeping out in the car for the foreseeable future."

Dean knew his father was deadly serious so decided to keep his comments about the man hanging up on people all the time to himself. He had to admit he was a little relieved when the Head Deputy chose that moment to arrive.

"Mr Donner, a pleasure as always," he said surprisingly convincingly, "So, I see you decided not to let us onto the important detail of your age Dean. Well, I don't think we can be held accountable for that but in the spirit of good will, how about we forget this whole thing, eh?"

Normally this might have felt like a slightly sleazy deal with a man trying to cover his own arse, but something about the man was just so... honest. He was one of the good guys so they decided felt okay about their little _deal_. Not that they had a choice really but still, it was refreshing to find someone not quite so rotten in what seemed to be an overwhelmingly rotten society.

XXXXX

As they left the station they could see their breath plume in the air. The night was freezing but beautifully clear and Dean could see that there was frost starting to dust the ground. The heating in the station had made him feel a little drowsy but the icy air was waking him right up. He shivered involuntarily absently wondering what the time was. He glanced at his watch; it was 2AM no wonder he was so tired. He yawned widely and stretched expansively trying to shake off all the negative feelings that had somehow built up inside him so far that night. It felt almost like all the bad stuff eith his father was just a bad dream and everything was okay. It left Dean feeling a little off-balance the way he could never predict his father, but that was life, right?

"So, now we have the amulet what's next," Dean asked waiting for his 'orders'.

"Get to this guy's house; destroy the altar and the amulet together. Got it?"

"Yes Sir. Weapons?"

"Well, as far as I can tell nothing will kill it, but holy water will hurt though I'm not sure how well that will slow it down. Bullets are useless, regular, salt and silver; so no guns."

"Great, this can't go wrong then..." Dean muttered under his breath. John either didn't hear him or chose to let the comment slide.

The ride to the house was silent. Dean felt a ball of unease growing in his chest, but John had that determined look on his face that told him argument would be futile. He suddenly realised what his part in this 'operation' was; he was the bait. He kept the demon distracted so his dad could get to the altar. He sighed deeply closing his eyes. His dad wasn't purposely putting him in harm's way exactly, no, he was just so focussed on saving lives he was blind to the cost sometimes.

When they arrived at the house for a second they wondered if they'd turned up at the wrong place. Until the spotted the tattered police tape flapping gentle in the night air. It still looked like a family home... still lived in. Like there might be a family sleeping softly in their beds, dreaming of tomorrow. Dean was hit by another wave of sadness, he glanced over to see if his father shared his feelings, but was met by blank eyes.

"So where's the altar?"

"It's in the basement. I found it before you got here but couldn't do anything about it 'til we had the amulet."

"So where do you want me?"

"You go into the main house, keep the demon distracted while I sort the altar. I'll be in and out pretty quickly so try not to get into trouble while I'm doing my part, okay?"

"Right..." Dean said trying not to be stung by his father's words.

XXXXX

By the time they were on their way home Dean was only just keeping his temper under control. That arrogant asshole! He took a deep breath knowing that it was partly the adrenaline coursing through his system that was throwing him off balance but... just... seriously!

He had thrown himself into his dad to protect him from a flying knife, saving him from a _cleaver_ in the back, but was his dad grateful? Oh no! Not by a long shot, it was all 'I woulda been just fine' and 'What the hell were you thinking?' What, did the man think that he was superman? That knives' would bounce off his skin?

Then he yelled at him for coming down to the basement... unbelievable. He should have thought the fact that he came through the door without actually _opening_ it first would have been clue enough that it had been a less than voluntary entry!

Although if he was honest with himself that wasn't really the problem at all. No, he knew that his father was always very critical and he only did it because he didn't want him to get hurt. The best way to stay safe was to be at the top of his game, as close to perfect as possible.

The real problem was the alcohol he had suddenly realised he could smell on his father's breath. And the anger? Well that was really the only was he could suppress his terror. His father had been drinking _on a hunt_! What the hell was he thinking! He was going to get himself or someone else killed...

He was so exhausted he felt like could sleep for a week and yet his mind refused to let him sleep. He wanted to stop his dad from driving, unsure if he was over the limit but he was all out of fight right now. What he wanted to do was to get out of the car and just _scream_, scream until his throat was raw and his lungs burned. Scream so the anger and the tension would finally leave his body. Scream at his father; no words just scream in his face until he couldn't scream any more.

So that he could breathe again.

God, he felt like he was suffocating

XXXXX

They made a pit stop at his dad's motel room to get his stuff then split up into their separate vehicles and drove back 'home' or more accurately to 'the place where Sammy was'.

The journey was made on empty roads, and it felt almost as though Dean and his father were the only ones on the whole state driving at this hour. They managed to make the whole way without bumping into a single other vehicle. It was almost unnaturally empty.

When they knocked on the motel door Dean felt a little guilty for waking his brother at 5AM but then again they didn't have a lot of choice. They always dead bolted the door when they slept if they could so anyone inside had to let the locked out members of the Winchester family in; it was just they lived. Though to be fair he always did it if they were both home so it was only fair his brother did it sometimes.

Sam looked a lot younger somehow when he was sleepy and Dean couldn't help but laugh at how absurd he looked clutching a shotgun with blinky eyes and wearing some second hand superhero pyjamas that he kept insisting he was too old for.

The Winchesters all slept in the next day; Sam until 9, and Dean and John until after 11. Normally they wouldn't but they really needed the rest and they really liked to make the most of their lie-ins when they could. It's not like any of them had to be anywhere and training could wait.

Sam, the eager beaver that he was had decided to do homework while his kin slept and then when everyone finally made it upright they had one of the most relaxed training sessions they had had in quite a while. Sparring had been a joyfully laugh filled occasion that day.

Dean and John seemed to have buried the hatchet for the time being. Maybe the hunt turning out how it had would be a wake-up call for him; maybe the drinking would stop, on hunts at least. It had to, his father wouldn't do that to him again, surely? Dean felt cautiously optimistic that maybe his father was out of his rut and that things were finally going to get better.

He could forgive his father for anything, right?


	13. Burning Man

The next couple of weeks were pretty damn good for the Winchester family. John picked up some shifts at a local garage while he didn't have a hunt on so they had some money that was entirely legitimate for once. Personally Dean felt money was money wherever it came from but he knew that Sam preferred it when they made an honest living, so Sam was happy and that made Dean happy too.

With their father at home Dean had a lot less responsibilities and a lot more freedom. So he made the most of it and chilled out with Lindsay as much as possible. She seemed to sense the change in him and was also making the most of it.

It struck Dean as he sat in Lindsay's room with her watching the snow fall that he couldn't remember a time when he had ever been this happy, well at least not for a good few years. He had managed to keep out of any fights lately and he and Lindsay were closer than ever. They hadn't breached the subject them getting 'together' since they had made up but Dean knew they were going to have to talk about it sooner or later.

"So you want to stay for dinner?" Lindsay asked hopefully.

"Sure if your parents don't mind."

"What? It's not a school night, why would they mind?" she said confused.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because they might not like the fact that I seem to be eating here more often than I eat at home at the moment..."

"You aren't here that often!" Lindsay interrupted with a laugh.

"Oh yeah? I feel like I'm eating them out of house and home." Dean smiled and then looked down adding more seriously, "Plus I don't think your dad's my biggest fan."

"What? That's nonsense, my parents love you..."

"No, your _mom_ loves me. Your dad looks at me like I'm about to start stealing the silverware."

Lindsay let out a full on laugh at that, but deep down she knew what he meant, except he had misread her father's reservations about him. He was just a being protective of her because of the fight he had witnessed between them before. She could have explained it to him but she didn't really want to bring up that particular memory, not now that things were going so well.

"Ah, don't worry about it; he's just being a dad. He's worried 'daddy's-little-girl' might have grown up; it's a tough time for him." She joked, smiling fondly as she thought about her dad.

"Yeah, maybe, still I'm gonna be on my best behaviour just in case anyway."

"You? Best behaviour? Well look at that, Mr Bad Boy gone soft? Will wonders never cease?"

"Oh God, I think my manhood just demanded that I do something manly or it's leaving for good! Quick find me a hammer or a drill or something before I start braiding hair and buying shoes!"

With that he full on sprinted out the house into the thick snow in the garden with Lindsay chasing as fast as possible whilst laughing uncontrollably (which is not that fast). The delay gave Dean enough time to prepare some snowball ammunition and launching a full on assault on Lindsay when she made it outside.

Their snowball fights and Snowman building lasted until the light faded and they were forced to come in. Dean felt like a child for once and had really let himself go. He was actually relaxed, as in _really_ relaxed. Whenever he had played in the snow in the past it had been with Sammy and as much fun as it had been, he hadn't truly relaxed because he had been alert and protecting and on guard as was expected of him.

When they came in they had to take off their outer layers to dry them on the radiator. For Lindsay that was fine as she had clothes to change into, for Dean on the other hand it was a little more awkward. The only change of clothes he had with him in the car had a dirt and blood stains on them that had he been with his family wouldn't have bothered him too much, but here he just couldn't wear.

His jeans had ended up sodden and dripping as the snow that had collected at the bottoms melted. He didn't want to get water everywhere but thought walking around in boxers and an undershirt might not go down to well either. The look on his face when he explained to Lindsay just cracked her up.

"Stop it! This is not funny!" he said indignantly but trying not to laugh. Lindsay's laughter was infectious.

"Oh, this is definitely funny. So much for keeping on my dad's good side. If he sees you wandering around the house in your underwear he'll be reaching for his shotgun..." Another round of giggles before she took pity, "Oh relax Dean, I'm sure I can something in the house for you to borrow, I'll have a look."

Half an hour later they were in the kitchen helping prepare food with Lindsay's mother. Dean was dressed in some of Lindsay's older brother Reese's clothes. Reese had left for college a year ago but still had clothes there and a room to come home to anytime he wanted it. Dean not for the first time was hit by a pang of jealousy and desire all mixed into one. He tried not to dwell though and to just enjoy himself while he could.

Lindsay's mother insisted he call her Ruth, and Dean sometimes wondered if she were the nicest person he'd ever met. He had never heard her raise her voice and wasn't sure she would even know how. When she'd asked him and Lindsay to help cook he'd happily agreed even though he had never been asked to do something like that in someone else's house, it somehow hadn't felt weird at all.

Lindsay's father arrived home just as they were ready; the way the Kale family seemed to move so well, so in time, and it just made them seem so perfect, so _together_. Lindsay's Father was called Adam, but Dean had decided to stick with Sir and Mr Kale. He hoped if he was respectful enough that he could maybe get the man to like him.

"Ah, Dean, staying for dinner _again_?" Mr Kale asked a little intimidatingly after saying his hellos to his family.

"I... well... as long as you don't mind..." Dean said faltering as Adam stared at him.

"Oh Adam," Ruth laughed warmly to her husband after stopping Dean with a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Stop being so bullish. Dean, relax, you're welcome anytime. Oh and he helped me tonight so you'd better learn some manners and thank him Adam."

Adam smiled at his wife, looking at her with much affection in his eyes, "Sorry love, you know us men, we act like we were brought up by wolves some days, we can't help it; it's the cave man inside us all."

They sat around the table and talked throughout dinner, Dean well and truly feeling like one of the family. He spent more of his time listening than talking; watching as the Kale's interacted was very entertaining. It was 9PM before they finished dessert and Dean couldn't believe it had taken them so long to eat, although if he was honest he could happily have stayed for hours longer dining with them.

They were talking with their empty plates in front of them when Dean's phone rang.

"Oh God, that's me, sorry!" he said apologetically, but having to take the call knowing that it was his father. He stood up to leave the room as he accepted the call. "Dad?"

"Dean, where are you?" came his father's slightly slurred voice. Dean sighed, slumping back to his seat without thinking. His father was drunk again, great, and it had all been going so well. He closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand across his forehead.

"I'm at Lindsay's, why?"

"I think... I think you need to come get me."

"Great," Dean said irritation clear in this voice, "Where are you?"

"I don't... I'm on the floor... I can't see anyone but I can hear them... I'm not sure where I am."

"You don't know where you are?" Dean hissed. "How can I get you if I don't know where you are? Okay, what were you doing, apart from _drinking_ obviously...?"

Dean looked up suddenly remembering where his was and feeling acutely embarrassed. Perfect, humiliation complete, not only was his father drunk and lost, but he had essentially announced it to the Kale's too. He knew he shouldn't be embarrassed, it wasn't his fault, but still he could feel his cheek reddening. Then another thought flashed through his mind that outweighed any mortification he might have been feeling.

"Oh God, where's Sam? He was supposed to be at home with you!"

"S'okay, he went over to that girl's house, Lucy... Lily... whatever her name is."

Dean about sagged to the floor with relief, "Oh thank God! You know what just stay put alright, I'm coming to get you, okay? And please try not to start any trouble before I get there, I'll be as quick as I can."

His dad simply hung up the phone without saying another word, no gratitude for Dean tonight apparently; since when had this become his job? Still this was his father and it wasn't like he was going to leave him stranded so he was just going to have to suck it up. He looked at the Kale's who were all looking back at him with concern written all over their faces.

"Look, I'm really sorry, I... I have to go, but thank you for a lovely meal." The words felt hollow in his mouth but he couldn't help it right now. He turned and rushed toward the door not waiting for the inevitable disgust and judgement in their eyes. He was surprised to hear a voice call after him.

"Hey! Wait!" Came Mr Kale's voice. "Give me a sec to grab a coat."

"Sorry...?" Dean said confused. Why did he need a coat?

"I'm coming with you." Mr Kale said offhandedly. He saw the bewilderment on Dean's face. "What? You didn't think I'd let you go out there on your own did you?"

"It's okay, you don't have to..."

"Nonsense, it's late and you're too young to be going into bars by yourself."

Dean looked away embarrassed once again, never had he felt like more of a screw up. He hadn't even thought twice about going by himself and neither had his father. Mr Kale sensed Dean's discomfort and felt bad.

"And anyway," he added, "two sets of eyes are better than one, right?"

Dean smiled despite himself and they left to go find John.

XXXXX

They had decided to take Dean's car, mostly because Mr Kale had taken one look at the vehicle and turned to Dean and said 'You lucky sod' causing both to laugh. They had made it to the end of the street before either spoke.

"So, do have a photo of your father or something?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, one; I don't know what he looks like, and two; it would make it easier to ask if people have seen your father."

"Yeah, good point." Dean felt like an idiot for asking. He wrangled his wallet from his back pocket. "There's one in there; it's a bit old but it's all I've got."

Dean was going to toss the wallet to Mr Kale but remembered that there were condoms in there and that it wouldn't have been the wisest move in history. He pulled the photo out with one hand.

"Well, that should do. That's you and Sam with him I take it?"

"Yeah, Sammy was about 7 there." Dean smiled fondly.

"Oh, did you need to phone your mother? Let her know what's going on."

Dean looked away, "I take it Linds didn't tell you then."

Adam frowned, he could tell he had said something he shouldn't have but was unsure what.

"My... um... my mom died, was _murdered_, a long time ago..." okay he hadn't meant to add that 'murdered' bit, it had just slipped out. He didn't know what else to say and so he just fell silent.

"Oh... I..." he stopped, "Look, I know it's hard losing a parent, so I won't go on, it used to irritate the hell outta me when people would start spouting a load of insincere sympathy and apologies or worse _pity_ at me, but I get it and I guess I'm sorry you had to go through it."

"Thanks." There was a moment of understanding between them and they sat in silence until they arrived at the first bar they could find.

It was not until the third bar they went to that they found any trace of John; although really it was less a 'trace' and more a 'path of destruction'.

The bar looked like it had been hit by a tornado. There were tables and chairs lying haphazardly across the room and broken glass crunched under foot. This was not a good sign, his dad M.I.A. and the remains of one hell of a bar fight could be a coincidence but Dean's gut was telling him different.

"Damn," Dean said quietly, "Guess I'd better find the bartender then."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Adam said hearing Dean's defeated tone, "This might be nothing to do with him. I mean, you said his truck wasn't in the parking lot."

"Yeah, maybe..." he replied not sounding in the least bit convinced.

After speaking to the guy behind the bar any hope they might have had was well and truly snubbed out. The man was not in the best of moods but given the state of his bar they could forgive him that.

"Yep, that's the asshole who tore up my place," the disgruntled man said flicking the photo as if hoping to inflict some kind of hurt on its subject. "Not that he did it alone but he sure as hell started it. He's lucky I didn't call the cops on him 'cause I coulda done, only my regular _clientele_ wouldn't have appreciated. Although to be honest the cops might have been the option he would have preferred, the guys took him off to teach him a lesson."

The guy snorted at the thought of John getting his comeuppance, Dean was not going to let that one slide. He might be an ass but he was still his dad. His tone was deadly when he asked where they had taken him causing the barman to first look surprised then to narrow his eyes and rock back with suspicion.

"What's it to you?"

"Not important. I'm gonna ask you one more time and it's your last chance so think carefully; where did they take him?"

The barman laughed, "What? Is that supposed to intimidate me? I got far worse people than some scrawny kid in here every day so nice try but I think I'm gonna have to advise you to get the hell outta here before I decide to teach you what happens when you mess with someone you shouldn't have."

Now it was Dean's turn to laugh, this made the bartender scowl and try to look as menacing as possible.

"Well, if _that_ was supposed to intimidate _me_ then you're gonna have to try a hell of a lot harder. From the state of this place I'm gonna have to assume he put up one hell of a fight. Now I'm assuming he was beyond drunk but still managed to take quite a few people down so you know he is one vicious son of a gun. Now me, I'm stone cold sober and I'll let you in on a little secret," Dean lent in resting he elbows on the bar smiling and lowering his voice to a whisper, "I am ten times worse than him. I will take you apart piece by piece until you give me what I want..."

And with that he grabbed the bartender head and slammed it into the bar and held it there with a gun that he had liberated from the guys waistband pressed against his neck. The man cried out in surprise and pain, struggling to get free. Mr Kale just stood there looking shocked; he couldn't believe the kid was holding a _gun_, how had he even spotted the gun. He looked like he knew how to handle it too.

"Now I'm not an idiot, I know a biker bar when I see one even if there are no bikers around right now, so I know the kind of 'clientele' you're talking about, but see me, I don't give a shit how badass you or your buddies think you are so you're gonna tell me where they took him or I will reign down hell upon you... and believe me you don't want that."

He punctuated the sentiment by slamming the man head into the bar. Needless to say they were promptly directed to where his father was. As they walked away the bartender called after them.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm a Winchester and that guy was my dad. A word of advice: don't fuck with Winchesters. Oh, and I'm keeping this," Dean said holding up the pistol.

There was silence in the car once more as got back on the road, this time not so comfortable. Dean knew he had to say something eventually, he needed to explain. He also wanted to get rid of the shell shocked look on Mr Kale's face. His introduction to a world he was not a part of had not a gentle one.

"Look, I'm sorry about what happen back there. You probably think I'm some kind of psycho now, but you see that kind of guy only responds to certain things, okay?"

Mr Kale said nothing.

"And I know that you probably think I went way over board but bikers aren't to be taken lightly. If I didn't scare that guy some he might have sent someone after me. Plus they might still have my dad, I have no idea what they are planning to do with him so I didn't have time to screw around asking nicely..."

"Dean stop."

Dean nodded and fell silent. God, he was never going to see Lindsay again at this rate. He risked a glance at Adam who seemed to be considering something.

"Look, you don't have to explain yourself, okay? Now I'm not saying I entirely approve, and you are certainly not to tell my wife or daughter that I said this, but if it was someone I cared about I sure as hell hope I'd have the guts to pull a stunt like that. Now let's just get this done and then we'll see what there is to discuss afterwards, okay?"

Dean nodded his assent as they made their way to John. He had been taken to a garage owned by one of the bikers who had taken exception to his behaviour. Dean spent the journey their thinking about what his best strategy would be.

He pulled over a little ways from the house and looked at the garage, it had security gates and various security measures; none of which were being put their proper use of course.

The gates were left open and there were bikes littering the entrance haphazardly; idiots. They had not only left him an easy exit but they had also handed him a rough head count too. Confidence had made them lazy, they were too comfortable and it left them wide open to attack. They thought they were scary and badass but they were about to discover they weren't the top of the food chain after all. Just because a bunch of small town suburban types though they were terrifying didn't mean that extended to everyone; especially not someone like Dean.

Now tactically of course he couldn't afford to be cocky either. Much as he'd like to teach them a proper lesson his dad's life was at stake; now was not the time.

So first he needed a good distraction. This would have been so much easier if it was the family doing this or at least if there was more than _two_ of them. He thought back to the times when he was a little kid and his dad had used him as the distraction; damn he was good too! Where was a little kid when you needed one? Not that he could honestly say he would have the heart to send some poor innocent child into a place like that. It was different with him, he had training and... stuff... whatever.

The idea of setting the petrol tanks of their bike on fire was a bad idea but it was the best he could come up with. He needed something that would get everyone's attention and draw them out. Bikes on fire? Everyone runs out to see what's going on. Of course that also meant a massive adrenaline surge and drawn weapons, adrenaline tended to give guys like this itchy trigger fingers so he needed to cut down their numbers somewhat.

That was where Mr Kale came in.

"What I want you to do is call up and get as many people away as possible."

"Okay, and just how in the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"What I gotta think of everything?" Dean said with a laugh. His response was a look that said 'stop pissing about' loud and clear. Dean rolled his eyes but lost the attitude, the man was helping him after all. "We'll practice that before you make the call don't worry. After you do that, we'll see how many leave and then I'll go in, grab my dad and you get ready to roll..."

"Wait, you want me to stay in the car?" Adam asked incredulously.

"Yeah." Dean said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Dean, these are _bikers_ not highschoolers, you can't seriously think you can take them all. They have guns and knives and they are happy to use them."

"Okay, first off they aren't the only ones who are gonna be armed, I kept this for that exact reason," Dean said indicating the gun that was stuffed in his waistband (this was untrue; he kept it because he liked weapons that couldn't be traced to the family and it meant he didn't have to reveal he had his own arsenal). "And second I'll be just fine. I know what I'm doing, okay? This ain't my first time at the rodeo. You go in with me and I'm gonna end up losing focus 'cos I gotta worry about you too. I need to be at the top of my game, my dad's life is at risk, I haven't got time to coddle you. Plus I need you to be ready, I don't want you to start the engine too soon 'cos you'll give us away but don't be too late either or we're gonna be in deep shit, okay?"

XXXXX

In the garage, the bikers were all lounging around drinking beers, smoking up a storm and generally having a whale of a time. There was a kind of electricity in the air at the anticipation of what they were about to do to the idiot that had decided to cross them. There hadn't been a lot of excitement since most of the locals were too scared to pick a fight but now they had a great opportunity to make a point, to really cement their reputation. If they got rowdy for no reason people might start to see them as too much of a problem and as tough as the gang was, they knew the law could squash them of they really wanted to.

So when the phone rang they were set on edge straight away, who the hell was ringing at this time of night? The leader sauntered over to pick it up.

"Hello?" the man said scornfully as if to say, 'who the fuck are _you _to ring _me_?'

"Hello." Came a deep confident voice filled with the threat of violence and an undertone of mocking. "Is that the _big, bad_ boss?"

"Oh _this_, this had better be good." He said with as much malice as he could put into a single sentence. He hoped he had concealed the slight worry he was feeling.

"Oh, it is," there was a deep unnerving chuckle, "I want to talk to you, y'know, face to face."

"Oh really, well how bout you call up my secretary and make an appointment then." He replied mockingly.

"Funny," the voice said with a carefree laugh, "But I don't think your Old Lady can wait that long."

"What did you just say you son of a bitch!" he roared. "You lay so much as a hand on my wife or kids and I will end you do you understand? I will END YOU!"

"See you at your place then," the voice said as if he were arranging to meet up with an old friend, adding in a 'concerned' voice, "Best hurry, I don't think it would be too good for your kids health to wait too long."

And then the dial tone sounded.

There was the thundering of feet as bikers ran outside. Orders were being screamed and helmets thrown on.

XXXXX

Dean laughed and looked at Mr Kale with surprise and amusement.

"Wow, I didn't know you had it in you. Remind me never to piss you off."

"You think this is a joke!" Adam hissed, "I just threatened a man's children!"

Dean's face darkened as he spat, "He has my _dad_; you think I find that _funny_. None of this is a joke to me; this is how I deal, okay? And you know what; yeah you threatened his family, but so what? He should get to know what that feels like; difference here is at least we actually don't _have_ any of his family. Stay in the car and BE READY, I don't know how far away this guy lives."

And with that he got out and slammed the door. Okay, actually he shut it as quietly as humanly possible, but in his mind he slammed it.

He saw two bikes left at the entrance so he knew there were at least two guys there but he was prepared for more. He was armed with his favourite gun and had various knives dotted around his person. He knelt down to slash the remaining bikes' tires that way it would hinder any attempt to chase them if it came to that.

As he snuck around the back of the garage he felt himself slip into hunter mode. This was just like any other job except he was going after humans instead. He wasn't sure if lethal force would be needed but he was sure as hell prepared to use it if he had to.

He managed to pick the lock on the back door with relative ease. He could here movement inside and stilted conversation and had to keep pausing to check he hadn't been discovered.

He winced as the door scraped open, the noise seeming louder than anything he had heard before. Every muscle in his body was tensed and he had to force himself to take a deep breath and relax some. He knew of he had too much adrenaline coursing through his system who would end up with the shakes; he needed to be accurate if it came down to him firing at anyone.

God, he had done this a thousand times before but it felt so different without his dad to back him up. Plus the enemy were human, plain old _human_; it wasn't supposed to be this way. He pushed all thoughts to the back of his mind when he spotted his dad.

There were two big guys standing over him. One of them nudged him with their boot. A sickness hit him as he thought for one terrifying second that his dad was dead. Then he heard a groan, a very familiar groan. Dean felt lightheaded with relief, that giddy feeling was only amplified by the realisation that his dad was in fact passed out from alcohol _not_ a concussion, because well; it wasn't the first time he'd heard that groan.

Dean made a decision on how to move forward. He needed to get close enough to take the two bikers out. It was the only was he could get out clean; he didn't want them calling the others before they got a reasonable distance away. He took a deep breath before he took a big risk.

Trying to make himself look as young and innocent as possible, he ran up to the two men arms both hands raised showing empty palms; the international sign of 'I'm no threat', and using his most convincing 'my voice has only just broken' pitch cried, "Help me! Someone's attacking my sister!"

It was a convincing enough performance that the two guys fell for it and he almost felt bad as he laid them both out, _almost_ but not quite. He took a few blows but he had them out fairly quickly. He fought as dirty as it gets unlike his opponents and it won him the fight before it had really begun.

With all the commercialised violence on TV people like to think that everyone should 'fight fair' but those people clearly had never been in a 'fight for your life' kind of struggle. There were no gentlemen in a brawl. If someone swings a tire iron at your head with multiple opponents you can't afford to take them down in a perfect chokehold and gently lay them on the floor and then scarper with no harm done.

In reality the other guy would have taken you out by then and you'd be lying in a bloody heap. Groin shots, eye gouges and sand in the face were all necessary sometimes. Sure he wouldn't maim someone if he didn't have to but hesitation wasn't an option. He knew that one of the guys knees was screwed up enough to leave him with a limp for the rest of his life, but he was some giant obese biker not a pro-footballer, he'd just have to live with it. That was the price you paid for kidnapping a Winchester.

The other had blood gushing from his nose as he lay unconscious and looking even uglier than when he started. The man had taken a hell of a knee to the balls and would be sore for quite a while, Dean cringed on the prone mans behalf. That shot had been a kneejerk reaction to a blow to his ribs that had taken the wind right out of him; his body informing him that if he wanted to be able to haul his dad out to the car too, he had to end things right then.

Mentally thanking his imaginary sister he roused John as best he could and they made their way back out of the garage. They made it to the car without any trouble and they drove off in a very calmly; they didn't want to attract any attention having got this far.

"Well, I think I might even go as far as to describe that as anti-climactic." Mr Kale said breaking the silence, seeing the look on Dean's face though he added, "Not that that's a bad thing of course."

They shared a smile of relief, of survival. The after effect of the adrenaline rush and the stress making was making them both drowsy. John had fallen straight back to sleep the minute he was shoved into the back seat, oblivious to the turmoil he had caused and chose that moment to snore loudly. Somehow Dean found himself bursting out into semi-hysterical laughter at the absurdity of the whole night, Mr Kale joining him soon after.

They certainly both needed the emotional release, it had been one of those laugh or cry moments and as Dean felt his eyes start to water he wasn't entirely sure which he had really gone with. A few minutes later when the laughter ended Dean realised they hadn't thought about where they were going.

"So, uh, if we go straight to your place you can get home and I'll drive me and dad back home. Sor..."

"Home? He needs to get to a hospital and I can't just leave you..."

Suddenly the dynamic of adult and child was back. It had gone for a while as Dean had _had _to take over but now Mr Kale seemed to be 'back in charge' again. Not the same as before of course but still, Mr Kale's authority was definitely back.

"He's fine, a few bumps and bruises and probably has one hell of a hangover coming but he certainly doesn't need a hospital."

"I take it you've done this before then." Mr Kale said realisation spreading across his face.

"Well, not exactly this but... yeah, I guess."

"Well then I'm real sorry."

"Why? None of this is your fault."

"No, but I'm still sorry that you had to go through this. You're a kid and it ain't fair."

"Yeah well; it is what it is."

"Yeah, I suppose it is." Adam replied softly.


	14. And You Will Drink the Rain

**So I Will Drink the Whisky and You Will Drink the Rain **

[Title from Abbie's Song by Joe Purdy]

The next morning John had woken up confused and hung-over with little memory of the night before. He had shaken Dean awake and demanded to know what was going on. Dean had given him a potted version of last night events (sans Mr Kale's presence of course).

John had just looked a little paler (and that was quite a feat) and mumbled something about getting his truck before slowly going and getting in the shower. Leaving Dean alone, he wondered whether Sam was being dropped off or he was supposed to be going to get him. He decided to ring Sam to find out since he doubted his father had the faintest clue.

God he hoped his father hadn't been drunk _before_ Sam had gone to his girlfriends; he was suddenly hit with the worrying thought that maybe that was _why_ Sam had gone to Louise's. No, that couldn't be it, Sam would _definitely_ have come straight to him if that had of been the case.

Sam picked up on the third ring, answering with a very sleepy "Hello?"

"Hey dude, it's Dean."

"Yeah, I got that, what is it?"

"I was just wondering how you were planning to get home."

"Dad said he'd come get me. Wait," Sam suddenly seemed wide awake, "Where are you? Where is _dad_? Has he left?"

"What? No, of course he hasn't left, why on earth would he have left? Did he say something to you last night?"

"No, of course not, if he told me he was leaving why would I think he was my ride? Why you can't ask him is why I'm confused. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, of course he's fine; he just... he got in a fight last night. And now he's just a little sketchy on the details is all, no need to worry. I'll come get you, okay? What time do you want me to come?"

"Well, we're gonna have breakfast I think, so maybe 10?"

"Sure... wait... did you two... oh my God... you _sly dog_..."

"Dean no! God! You have a one track mind; I'm THIRTEEN, seriously; one, three, _thirteen_. I don't care WHEN you started your life of debauchery!"

"Well, you _slept over_ what was I supposed to think?"

"That she had a_ party_, that ten of us stayed over! Have you even seen dad? Surely he remembers that, are you sure he's okay?"

"Jesus _Samantha_, he's fine, okay? I didn't think to ask is all, now I'm coming to get you at ten, okay? See you then."

"Sure Dean, see ya."

Dean smiled and felt the tension leave his body; a happy Sam could do that to a guy, y'know? He thought back to the night before and suddenly things didn't seem so bad, sure things were a bit screwed up in their family but hell, everyone's family was screwed up in some way, if you didn't see it you just weren't looking hard enough.

He found himself staring out into the snow and wishing he could go see Lindsay. But now was not the time. As well as Mr Kale had seemed to deal with last night's little emergency, it was the morning after, he might have reconsidered his position on the whole thing by now. He might not be in the mood to see him quite yet, he didn't want to push his luck. He had talked the guy out of calling child services by pointing out that being a ward of the state would be much worse than living with his family; his blood. He figured he clinched it when he said he'd rather die than lose Sammy

They had come to an agreement on what they would tell their respective families. The Kale's would simply hear that they had picked John from a bar and taken him home. Dean had told Adam it would be best if John never knew he was there; he had gotten an odd look from the older man so he added that it was just simpler that way. He had seen a look of doubt and maybe a little worry in Mr Kale's narrowed eyes but the man had agreed so he had ignored it.

Really Dean didn't want to tell his father because if he did he was sure they would just up and leave, _just in case_; didn't want the cops or social services on their asses now did they.

He had given in to Mr Kale's request for their number though; it wasn't like he couldn't get it from Lindsay anyhow, but it felt like an 'I trust you' and he felt like they both needed that at the time. Now he wasn't so sure, but in the cold light of day things often seem different somehow, like they had been skewed by the darkness.

He snorted at his own paranoia; what did he think the guy was going to do? It was a _phone_ number not his social security number or his bank account details (not that he had a bank account that acwasn't technically someone elses of course but you get the idea.) He had promised to call Adam if ever there was a problem to insure he didn't rat him out. When people like the Adam felt trusted they found it almost impossible to betray that trust. He was a good man, a loyal man and Dean was going to make the most of it. He refused to call it 'taking advantage' because this was his _life_ he was protecting; there was no second place.

He glanced at his watch deciding that he needed to leave in about half an hour if he wanted to be there with plenty of time in case of traffic. He jumped at the sound of the front door being throw slammed shut; apparently John was off, he ran after him when he remembered the car situation.

"Wait!"

"God, would you take it down a notch Dean. My head is killing me."

"And whose fault is that?" Dean retorted kicking himself the second it came out. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Watch it." John growled as he climbed into the Impala.

"Yes sir,"Dean replied automatically, almost turning to go back inside before suddenly remembered why he had come after him in the first place, "Dad stop, I need the car. Sam needs picking up at ten."

"Oh right, well get in, we can pick him up on the way."

"Great." Dean said unconvincingly which earned him another hard look. Just keep on digging he thought, wincing internally.

"So where is your truck?" Dean asked as they set off.

"What?" John growled

"Your truck, I assume if you're planning to get it you must actually know where it is."

"Right. Yeah." John's voice sounded... off somehow but Dean wasn't sure what that meant.

"So where is it?" Dean asked with more than a little confusion.

"Where I left it yesterday." Gruff and evasive as usual, Dean didn't know what he had been thinking expecting some kind of _actual answer_.

They made it to where Sam was a little earlier than Dean had planned; apparently John had thrown caution to the wind and was driving like he was in one hell of a hurry. Who knows? Maybe he was, the man was a complete mystery half of the time. Yes; revenge and mystery with a heavy dose of violence, that about summed the man up.

"I'll go get him, okay? Stay here, I won't be long." Dean said rushing out of the car before John had the chance to reply, knowing full well said response would not be a pleasant one.

Apparently their dad was too hung over to bother following him which Dean supposed was a blessing. He knocked on the door and tried to look as respectable as possible; not easy in torn jeans, biker boots and a leather jacket. The woman who answered the door looked distinctly unimpressed, as usual.

Dean knew this woman to be Louise's step-mother; she wasn't _that_ much older than Louise herself truth be told, but she dressed like someone a decade or so older than she actually was; as though that made up for it. Just because she dressed like some conservative, forty year old, statesman's wife didn't make her seem like less of a gold digger when her husband was pushing sixty, overweight and seriously rich.

"Yes?" she sneered questioningly even though she had recognised him straight away.

"Well, _ma'am_," he started, _almost_ mockingly, "I'm here to pick up Sam."

"Right, stay here." She said leaving him on the doorstep, with a clear '_you _are not invited in'. Like he wanted to come into her poxy house and steal her poxy stuff, he rolled his eyes. Or maybe he should steal something, teach her a lesson... He had waited five minutes before Sam appeared saving Louise's step-mother a life lesson.

"Dude, you're early, I told you ten."

"I know Sammy, sorry, change of plans. Dad wanted to get his truck and I..." he stopped suddenly realising their father couldn't have been off to get his truck originally because he would have needed Dean to come with him if he had. How else was he planning to get both vehicles' home? He looked back to the Impala, where the hell had the old man been off to? Dean had a sinking feeling that alcohol may have been the goal.

"...Earth to Dean?" Sam said waving a hand in front of his brother's face. Dean slapped the hand away.

"What?"

"You just trailed off and started staring into space; I should be the one asking 'what?'"

"Shut up. Just get your stuff and get to the car before dad leaves us both standing here like idiots."

Sam gave Dean a weird look but complied without complaint. Dean trudged down the overly grand driveway back to the Impala and got in slamming the door loud enough to wake the lightly snoozing John Winchester.

"Where are you going exactly?"

"To get my truck like you said."

"Really? And what, you were planning to drive both cars home at once?"

"No, I got you for that." He replied angrily.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have. You almost went without me."

"Well thank God I had such an _amazing _son who rushed after me then." John said sarcastically.

They were saved from any escalation by Sam yanking a door open and saying 'Hi' a little too loudly. The car descended into stony silence after Sam had got in and noticed the atmosphere.

They drove to a bar not too far from the place where the 'trouble' had started last night. Dean was struck with a little irritation at how easily John had found the place. _Of course_ he remembered where his truck was, where his son was on the other hand... not so much. Dean decided not to make this observation aloud as it would only end up causing a car full of either pissed off, or sulky and offended occupants. So not worth it.

John got out of the car and began striding over to his truck before he stopped, glancing back at his sons, appearing to be mulling something over. He finally motioned Dean over.

"I... uh... d'you think you could get my other set of keys from the bar?" he asked quietly. Dean narrowed his eyes.

"Why can't you?"

"Because I'm asking you." He replied glibly. Dean was a little surprised he was being asked not ordered if he was honest, he kept that to himself though.

"Look, I need you to tell me why in case it might impact _how_ I choose to get your keys, okay?" Dean said as patiently as possible, struggling to keep the irritation out of his voice. John closed his eyes letting out a huff of air, resigned.

"I didn't pay the tab before I left, Okay? But the guy was being an asshole and really should just consider himself lucky I let him get away with what he said. So get them. Now." _Well, there were the orders then._

"Right." Dean said turning away angrily setting out toward the bar before his father came up with anymore bullshit excuses. Of course it was everyone else's fault, God forbid the great John Winchester did something wrong.

He managed to sneak in and lift the keys, bypassing any awkward questions. By the time he made it out however his dad had hightailed it out of there with the other set of keys. Great, just great, nothing like a bit of gratitude, eh?

Sam was waiting for him in the impala looking freezing. It was warmer than last night but the temperature was still pretty low and he wasn't really dressed for it. More snow was threatening, and that didn't seem like the wonderful prospect it had at Lindsay's the day before.

"Dad said he had to make a quick stop before he went back to the motel and that we should meet him there."

"Right, of course, don't suppose he said what he was doing?"

"Have you met our dad?" Sam joked, his smile dropping at the pensive look on Dean's face. "What's going on with you guys? Is everything okay?"

Dean just sighed before starting up the engine. Ignoring the questions he simply said he was freezing his balls off so they better shift it back to the relative warmth of the motel. Dean said no more about their father, trying to distract Sam with a question about last night. Sam saw it for what it was but decided to let it go.

XXXXX

They had been back at the motel for about 40 minutes when John arrived, his arms clutching two paper bags filled with food and other household goods. What clarified the surprise shopping trip for Dean though, was that familiar clink of glass from within one of the bags. His father generally either left the shopping until Dean did it or he was at least had to be reminded that the cupboards were bare.

Dean, until he had realised that the food was essentially a cover for a booze run, had been pleasantly surprised; making the truth seem just that bit more crushing. He had been unable to stop himself glaring hotly at his father. John knew he'd been caught straight away but decided to act innocent anyway.

"What?"

"YOU..." Dean started, toning it down to a hiss remembering Sam was home. "You are _unbelievable_!"

With that he left, slamming the door behind him, desperately wanting to punch someone in the face. If he hadn't made it out that someone could easily have been his father. He leant against his car, breathing heavily. Sam came up behind him; obviously he had heard the door slam and wanted to know what was going on.

"Are you okay, Dean?"

"I'm fine."

"No you're not!" Sam yelled frustrated. "You've been in a weird mood all morning. What the hell is going on? You can tell me! Did you and Lindsay have another fight?"

"What? No, why would you think that?"

"Because I know you and you obviously had a fight with someone who you couldn't punch in the face. And since the only people you wouldn't punch in the face when you're that annoyed is dad or a girl, I figured it had to be one of the two. Since you wouldn't lie if it were Lindsay you must have been fighting with dad; simple process of elimination Dean."

"God, that big brain of yours is annoying. How 'bout you put it to some real good, like figuring out how to get into Louise's pants." Dean joked gruffly; nothing like diversion tactics, eh?

"Nice try Dean, tell me what's going on."

Dean let out a sigh and let his head rest on the roof of the impala. "Look Sam, everything's fine, okay? So I had a fight with dad; big deal. I'm gonna go out, blow off some steam and I'll be fine."

"Last time you said that you ended up getting into a fist fight in a grocery store."

"Lucky dad just went shopping then, isn't it?" Dean snorted and Sam smiled. Whilst he could see some of the tension had left Dean's frame, anger still radiated through him; that would be obvious to a blind man.

"Dean, I feel like we keep having this same conversation but nothing ever gets really resolved. It just cools off for a couple weeks or months and then there we are again. It's like we're caught in this relentless forward motion but really we don't seem to be going anywhere at all. Just round and round in circles. He drags us all over the country, state after state, never staying still. And the more things change the more they stay the same. Is this going to be our life forever? 'Cos Dean, I'm not sure I _can_ live like this forever and neither can you, whether you want to admit it or not..."

Flattening his back against the car he slid down to the ground by the wheel well. He started talking quietly with a kind of far off tone that left Sam unsure as to whether he actually speaking to him or just thinking aloud. Sam joined him on the ground

"He's our dad. It's just the three of us, that's it. And sometimes... sometimes that means we have to make sacrifices. Do things we'd rather not."

"But for what? None of us are happy..."

Dean's head turned sharply at his words. "But he's helping people, saving them. We all are. Isn't that enough?"

Dean looked up, the soft, questioning, self-doubting words dampening his eyes. Sam answered honestly, "I don't know."

"Yeah, me neither." Came Dean gentle, _surprising_ admission. Sam found himself shocked at his brother words; he had never heard such doubt for their father's mission.

"You're gonna be alright though Dean, right?" Sam voice sounded shaky and uncertain; so childish.

"Yeah, of course." Dean said slinging an arm round his brother, false bravado back in place. "Well, I'd better get up on 'cos my ass is going numb. Damn I'm gonna have to change these jeans before I go; damn snow."

"Where are you going?"

"Think I'm gonna go see Linds, apologise for last night."

"What happened? I thought you said everything was fine?"

"It is, it's just I had to leave to go get dad."

"Is that why you're annoyed with him?"

"No, not really."

"Is he okay? Is this something to do with his drinking?" Dean looked shocked, Sam knew? Sam rolled his eyes at his brother.

"I'm not an idiot Dean."

"No, I guess not. He's okay though, he's always okay."

"But you're worried about him."

"Yeah, but hey, that's my job; to worry about you two knuckle heads." He punctuated this by grabbing Sam in a headlock, messing up his hair. Sam laughed and shoved his way out of his brother's grip. Turning more serious he looked into Sam's eyes, "Just, stay out of his way a bit, okay? He needs a little space I think."

"Okay."

"Right, now go get your work done."

"Ha! That's a joke coming from _you_." They both laughed knowing Sam had a point. "I see you later, okay?"

"Okay."

XXXXX

He arrived at Lindsay's wondering if he should just sneak in instead of knocking. His plan to avoid the Kale's had (no matter how sensible it was) ended when he realised how desperately he wanted, no _needed_ to see Lindsay.

He decided not to be a total chicken and just bite the bullet; front door it was. He held his breath as he waited for someone to come to the door.

"Dean..." it was Lindsay, a breath he hadn't know he was holding was expelled loudly.

"Lindsay, how are you? Are you okay?" at this he was given a strange look.

"I'm fine, is there a reason I wouldn't be?" she asked with a slightly confused smile.

"No! Of course not... I ... um... Are your parents home?" he asked glancing into the house nervously.

"No... did you need to speak to them?"

"What? No of course not, I just wanted to say... hi?" he said unconvincing.

"Okay, if you're done being weird, how bout you come in." She laughed.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Dean said awkwardly. "So, uh, did you talk to your dad? Y'know, about last night?"

"Oh, is that what this is about, of course he told me." Panic flashed through Dean's stomach painfully. He tried for nonchalance anyway.

"Yeah, uh, what did he say?"

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you flap like this before." She laughed. "Don't worry; he passed on your apologies. It's not your fault you had to go get your dad from a bar."

"Yeah, of course, I know that." She turned more serious at his ever so slightly defensive tone as he avoided her eyes. She put out a hand to rub his arm gently.

"It's okay Dean, my parents don't think any less of you. If anything my dad seems to be better if anything. You want to come upstairs? My parents are out with friends for the day so you don't have to worry about avoiding my dad."

Dean had to laugh at that, "You really have me pegged, huh?"

"Oh yeah, in a big way you open book you."

They spent a couple of hours laughing and joking around. Dean felt as almost as though the day before had never happen; just some bad dream that could be swallowed by the sunshine.

He found himself staring at Lindsay's face, taken over by a giant goofy smile as she explained one of the weird photographs on the pin board over her desk. It was a yellowing and battered one of her and her brother dressed like utter 'weirdo's' as she put it because her parents had decided to let them wear whatever they wanted when they were little no matter what they looked like. Suddenly without thinking he grabbed Lindsay up in a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder squeezing him tightly in return before after a minute pulled back looking at him with a questioning look in her eyes.

"What was that about?"

"You don't like spontaneous hugs from devastatingly good looking young men?" Dean joked in mock offence to hide his own surprise at his actions. Where the hell had that come from?

"Dean," she said seeing through his facade, "Talk to me, please?"

Dean sat down on her putting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I don't know, I just... I felt like hugging you. I just needed to touch you, to be _connected_, y'know?"

"Yeah," she said with a soft smile as she down next to him, pleasantly surprised at his uncharacteristic openness. Gently she took his chin and turned to face her, leaning in until she was millimetres away from his. He tilted his head just a little, so they fit together perfectly. Lindsay revelled in the warmth of his breath as it tickled her lip that was so very close. She realised she was holding her breath.

He looked her straight in the eye, silently asking if she was really sure, he instantly saw the confirmation and captured her lips. He was forceful but not rough, with that confidence that coloured all his actions. Desire spiralled through her violently as she kissed him back; she felt her control disappearing with each moan that erupted uninhibited from them both.

It was almost surreal as he started to remove her shirt, lust taking over his features making him seem even more beautiful; this raw masculinity almost contradicting his delicate features, a sexuality that refused to be quieted. She had never felt so... wanted.

The dizzying realisation that this would be her 'first time' left her breathless and excited. She was ready for this, she wanted this; she _needed_ this. And then she stopped thinking; like they were the only people that existed. They were caught up in their own rhythm; like there was a song playing that only they could hear. And the soft light of the sun as it started to fall through the sky suddenly made the world just a little bit more beautiful than it had ever been before.

Afterward they lay there in a cocoon of pleasure and calm; tingling in ecstasy and exhaustion. Neither spoke, neither knew what to say. It was just _right_; they just knew it as certainly as they knew the earth was round. And so they slept.


	15. He Wears Them Well

_A/N: Really sorry about the lack of update yesterday! Unfortunately my laptop had a bit of a meltdown but all is well again today - I hope! I got a nasty virus which scared the living hell outta me, but I _think_ it's gone now... although to be honest I am not exactly tech savvy so I waiting for it to blow up in my face any second now! Hope you guys enjoy and sorry for the delay X_

Lindsay woke first; she didn't know how long she had been asleep but it was dark outside. The night was crystal clear and the reflection from the snow made the full moon light up her room. She sat up and walked to the window, letting her nakedness be exposed without embarrassment. The moonlight gave the world an almost ghostly appearance, so bright it seemed to be almost an odd parody of the day. Like a lie, but a beautiful lie, made just for her.

She turned back to look at Dean, his breathing even and his body completely relaxed. It occurred to her that this was the first time she had ever seen him like that; she found an absurd giggle bubbling through her chest, oddly gleeful she had been allowed to get a glimpse at something so very private. Something that no-one had seen before, something secret.

She watched him turn over onto his stomach, the sheets tangled between his legs just reaching up to his waist. She took in his body, the moonlight highlighting his scars. There seemed too many for someone so young, they spoke of a pain that no-one should have had to endure. A life that was hard and violent. But the scars somehow seem comfortable on his skin, proof he has survived, that he will always survive. Not ugly reminders but like silver decorations that adorn him. He wears them well.

She padded silently over the plush carpet back to the bed slipping beneath the bed covers, causing him to rouse sleepily; awake enough to allow her to fit back under his arms. She doesn't move as he wraps himself around her, she just lets herself be engulfed. She feels so delicate and fragile in his grasp. His body so warm and strong, with his rough hands and beautiful imperfections. She wished they could stay here forever.

XXXXX

When the Kale's parents pull into the drive Dean was up like a shot, every muscle tense. What the hell was he doing dozing there like an idiot? He was skating on thin ice as it was; finding him in bed with their daughter would surely be the final straw. Lindsay sat up confused and half asleep.

"What's wrong?"

"Your parents are home!" he whispered with panic clear in his voice. "Oh my God where are my damn pants!"

Momentarily stunned Lindsay remains completely still. Her brain finally caught up and she joined Deans frantic rush to find her clothes. She unlike him was laughing hysterically; apparently the urgency of the situation couldn't kill the euphoria she felt. Dean didn't join in until they were both fully clothed. He flicked the light on and hastily made up the bed.

"There, good as new." He said breathlessly with a goofy grin on his face.

"Try doing up your fly and I might agree." Lindsay laughed naturally and scruffed up his hair.

"Hey!"

"What? Like I could make it worse at this point?"

"You're a one to talk." He kidded back and threw a hair brush her way.

"Think we better go say hello?"

Dean grimaced involuntarily causing Lindsay to laugh once again. "Guess we'd better."

When Dean and Mr Kale first said hello it was a little awkward but the tension was quickly derailed by the women of the household.

"So, staying for dinner again Dean?" Ruth asked after a little conversation on the events of her and her husband's day.

"Ah, I can't, I gotta get back to Sammy. He's probably wondering where I am."

"Such a good brother you are," she said warmly, before laughing, "Can't imagine my two being so considerate of each other."

"Hey! I am a wonderful sister!" Lindsay said, mock offended.

"Well, I better be going. I'll see you at school tomorrow Linds. Nice to see you Mr and Mrs Kale." Dean said politely.

"You too Dean and how many times do I have to tell you: it's Ruth. Keep calling me Mrs Kale and I might start holding it against you!" she joked light-heartedly.

Dean had made it all the way to the car when he heard Adam Kale call him. He stopped and waited for the man to catch him up, watching his breath cloud in the air.

"Dean, how's your father? He all right after last night?"

"Yeah, he's fine."

"How about you?" Adam asked tilting his head.

"I'm fine too; I'm always fine."

"Yeah." Adam said with meaning and understanding behind the single word.

"And you? Quite the night for you too I guess."

"Oh yes, that it was." He said with a dark smile, "Still, I think we can put that behind us, eh? I've got no problem with you."

"Well that's a relief." Dean laughed. Adam's face turned more serious and he looked right into Dean's eyes. His tone was hard but without malice.

"Like I said, I got no problem with you and I mean that sincerely, but Dean, you hurt my little girl and I am on her side. Do you understand me? I am _always _on her side."

The implication was clear in his voice and with that in the air he clapped Dean on the shoulder and left him alone in the street.

_I am always on her side._

"Yeah, me too." He said softly once Adam was out of earshot. Letting out a sad sigh he got into his car and left.

XXXXX

It was seven o'clock before Dean had meandered his way home. Sam was splayed out on the couch with a book when he opened the door.

"Dude! Where the hell have you been? You've been gone all day, dad is pissed!" Sam said jumping up.

"What? Why the hell didn't he ring me then?"

"I don't know, maybe because you left your phone at home?" Sam said as he pointed at the forgotten object in question that sat on the kitchen table.

"Oh _shit_!" Dean said face-palming. "How cross is he? Scale of 1 to 10?"

"Oh, 1 to 10 doesn't even _begin_ to cover it." A sick feeling of dread spread through Dean's stomach, a lesser man would have succumbed to hyperventilating but Dean didn't want Sam to worry. Unfortunately his face said it all. "Dean, it's okay, he's not gonna do anything too awful. He's off on a hunt tomorrow I think so even if he grounds you or whatever he'll be gone; it's not like he can enforce it."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. He went out about 20 minutes ago yelling he be back in about half an hour. I knew better than to bother asking." Sam said with as little bitterness as he could manage.

Dean glanced at the door raking his hands through the door taking deep, calming breaths as subtly as possible. Well this was going to be the longest 10 minutes of his life.

He quickly started some dinner up on the stove and told Sam to keep stirring and went outside to wait for their dad outside the motel. He hoped by intercepting his dad before he came inside he could do some damage control, or maybe just hide the damage if he was being honest with himself.

For once John showed up exactly when he said he would. Typical Dean supposed; trust him to do that the one time he kind of hoped he wouldn't show up. Still he guessed that it was better than waiting until his nerves were well and truly shredded... maybe. John got out of his truck with a paper bag that obviously held only booze, no groceries this time.

"Decided not to go with the charade this time, huh dad?" Dean said calling it as he saw it. He couldn't believe John had drunk all the alcohol he bought earlier already.

"If I wanna drink, I'll have one. I'm not a child Dean." John said defensively.

"Maybe not but this has to stop."

"_Really_?" John said incredulously with a scornful tone, "An' I suppose you're just the guy to stop me, huh?"

"I shouldn't _have_ to stop you." Dean said anger in every word. The time for diplomacy was over.

"You're right; you don't need to stop me. I'm fine..." John spat.

"No you aren't!" Dean interrupted loudly. "You aren't even _close_ to fine, in fact you're _so far_ from fine you can't even remember what fine_ looks like_."

"You shut your mouth!" John yelled grabbing Dean by the throat and slamming him into the wall of the motel.

"No! Not this time! Did you know that _Sam_ knows about the drinking too?" John's answer came in the form of his head colliding forcefully with the wall again.

"You liar! Wait, what have you been telling him? Are you trying to turn him against me? Is that what this is about?"

"What? No! Do you _hear _yourself right now? You're acting crazy!"

"Yeah? Well _you're_ acting like an ungrateful, insolent, little shit! You make me embarrassed to be your father!" Dean tried to swallow the hurt on that one because he knew it was the alcohol talking not his dad. He knew that logically, but unfortunately the sting seemed to loosen his tongue. And he let loose something that he hoped would be a wakeup call.

"Father's a bit of a stretch." He said quietly with venom in his words.

John reeled back his grip tightening; Dean knew right then he had misjudged things terribly. The feeling was compounded as his father literally threw him to the right and he collided with the motel's cold drink machine a few feet away. He felt the thin outer metal give before he bounced off it like a ragdoll and hit the ground with a thud.

The force left him too stunned to get up, he waited for John to move toward him and let loose on.

But John didn't come.

Absently he recognised the slam of the motel door being thrown open hard enough to leave an indent in the wall it had connected with, then Sam's voice asking what happen, followed by John's yell to for Sam to get in his room and stay there. His world swam oddly as his brain tried to figure out which way was up; his head must have hit the ground hard.

Next thing he knew something was thrown at him, it took him a second to realise it was his duffle bag. John stood staring at him for a second before he turned to walk back inside. Dean tried to scramble up and follow him.

"Wait!" he cried as he wobbled to the ground, his legs refusing to cooperate. His father whipped around.

"No!" he yelled his words contradicting his change in direction. "I'm done! You're outta here! So take your shit and leave."

"Wait, dad, no." Dean blamed the pathetic pleading in his voice on his current state of concussed confusion. "Dad, please, I'm not leaving Sam"

"I'm sorry, did it seem like I was giving you a choice?" John said as a statement more than a question, his voice suddenly ice cold and hateful. Adding as an afterthought like Dean saying he wouldn't leave Sam was somehow an insult he said, "Oh and I would _never _hurt Sam."

"What, like you wouldn't hurt me?" Dean asked, tears threatening.

"Well if you didn't make me then I wouldn't. You wound me up on purpose and now you're gonna act surprised when I lose my temper? You started this, and now, you can _fuck off_!"

He punctuated this with a few vicious kicks to Dean's stomach before he went back into the motel and locked the door behind him.

Devastated Dean just stayed where he was on the ground. He found himself staring at the dent he had left in the drinks machine completely at a loss as to what he should do. He wasn't sure how long he had sat there when he finally decided he needed to shift it to the car before hypothermia set in.

The sound of his mobile chirping irritatingly after 10 minutes of sitting silently in the car made Dean jump like a startled cat. He panicked when he saw Sam's number flash on the screen.

"Sam?" he said breathlessly.

"Dean," Came the whispered reply, "What's going on? Dad said he kicked you out, is he serious?"

Dean closed his eyes; the lump in his throat almost stopped him speaking. "Yeah, I think so."

Sam felt sick. "What, no! I can't do this without you! Dean, don't leave me"

Dean could hear the tears in his brother's quiet, pleading voice. "Of course I'm not gonna leave you. Dad and I'll sort things out. He's going out of town tomorrow anyway, isn't he? Do you think you'll be alright 'til then?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll be fine." Sam said trying to sound brave but feeling like a five year old all the same.

"Sam, just promise me you'll stay out of his way, okay? Call me if you need me to take you to school tomorrow."

"Okay. Wait, where are you going? I thought you were gonna stay."

"Sam, I can't, it'll just piss dad off more. This is only gonna be for the night. I'll be at Lindsay's, okay? Call me if you need anything."

"Alright, bye Dean." Sam said in a tiny voice.

"I'll see ya kid."

XXXXX

He spent the drive to Lindsay's wondering what she would say when she saw him. That and how the hell he was going to sneak past her parents. He knew that he couldn't lie about what happened because Lindsay would see through him in a second. As he pulled over across from the Kale's, he looked himself in the mirror.

Shit.

There was dried blood in his hair and on his face. The cut on his head wouldn't need stitches but it did need cleaning up. He fished out a bottle of water from under the passenger seat and grabbed some gauze from the first aid kit in the dash board. He opened the door and used the water to try and clean up and pressed the gauze to the wound that started in his hairline and extended down his forehead.

When he heard his name called out of nowhere his heart about exploded out of his chest. It was Lindsay.

"Linds? What are you doing out here?"

"Right back at ya buddy." Dean gave her a look. "Fine, I saw your car pull up, oh and you know; _I live here_. Now, it's your turn."

"What were you doing staring out the window?" he asked aiming for amusement and missing the mark by a mile.

"I was thinking. Now tell me what you're doing here." She replied a little shortly.

"I'm starting to feel like I'm not wanted."

"Dean..." she said with a mixture of irritation and worry.

"I know, I'm sorry. Look, do your parents know I'm here? "

"Well, they were watching TV in the living room and since I didn't realise this was a secret I told them I saw you outside, so yeah."

"Why are you annoyed with me?"

"I'm not annoyed Dean," she sighed heavily, "I'm just worried okay."

Honestly she was a little stung because she had thought Dean was here to see her, before she realised he was here because he needed something. Okay, that was a little unfair, it wasn't Dean's fault, but hey, she was only human.

Taking a breath and letting go of those feelings she gently moved the gauze from Dean's head to look at the damage. She looked at him sadly, reading the truth from his eyes without him saying a word.

"Your dad huh?" she said quietly.

"He... he kicked me out." Dean replied barely audible. Immediately Lindsay wrapped him in a hug, Dean stayed rigid as she clutched him tightly. He wanted to hug her back, but had been overwhelmed by a feeling of fragility, like if he moved he might just break apart into tiny pieces. Like he would be broken beyond repair; or maybe he was already. After a few moments of Dean failing to yield Lindsay pulled back.

"Dean, come inside."

For a second Dean thought it had been Lindsay who spoke but he quickly he realised it had in fact been Lindsay's mother Ruth who had spoken. He stepped back instinctively but Lindsay grabbed his arm and looked him in the eye. She let go and took his keys from the ignition before shutting the door and locking it.

At his silence she simply tugged him across the street toward her mother who was on the sidewalk that side of the road. They walked inside together, Dean not exactly willing but not actively fighting against the movement.

They walked into the kitchen were Ruth finally got a proper look at Dean's face in the stark exposing lights. He turned away from her, leaning against the kitchen counter letting his eyes close and his chin drop to his chest. With his back turned he missed Lindsay sharing a look with her mother, a kind of shared sympathy with a note of questioning from Ruth. Lindsay shrugged at her mother not wanting to reveal the truth about what happened and scare Dean off.

Seeing the conflicted look on her daughter's face Ruth decided to change tack. She put a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder only to feel him flinch. He turned around trying to cover the action with a smile.

"Dean, why don't you tell me what happened to your head?"

"Oh, it was nothing, I just... I slipped on the ice, y'know, damn weather." The laugh on the end felt as phony as the lie sounded but he decided to commit anyway.

"Looks painful." Ruth said neutrally, "Well, I guess it's time for a trip to the ER, eh?"

"What? No! Its fine really, doesn't even hurt."

"Dean, I've been a nurse for twenty years. So how bout we try for the truth, yes?"

"Okay, so it hurts a little but really I don't need to go to the hospital."

"Why the reluctance? It's not so bad there is it?"

Dean considered how best to play this, he settle on an embarrassed look and fixed his eyes to the ground, "I... look I don't have any insurance, okay? I can't afford a pointless trip to the ER."

Ruth smiled softly accepting Dean's story. "Okay, I tell you what, you let me take a look at you and I won't insist you go. Okay?"

"That's really not necessary..." he stopped with the protests when he saw the look of determination on Ruth's face. It was this moment that Adam Kale walked into find out what the fuss was about, he looked surprised to see Dean.

"Dean? Back so soon? Ooh, what happened to your head?" Adam said but shut up fairly quickly with a single look from his wife. "Well, I'm gonna go next door and finish watching the show. Nice to see you Dean."

And with that he was gone.

"You've got him well trained." Dean said with a laugh as he slipped off his jacket and sat down to let Mrs Kale take a look at him. It was almost a real laugh too. Something about the Kale's house helped him relax.

"Well, someone rediscovered their sense of humour, huh? Okay, I'm just gonna disinfect that head of yours so this might sting a little."

"Karma sucks, huh?" came a shout from the next room. Dean hissed when said karma/disinfectant was applied.

"Man's like God; he hears _everything_!" whispered Lindsay, sharing a laugh wither mother.

"Okay Dean," Ruth said once she was done sorting out his head, "how about you let me take a look at your side now?"

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked a little thrown; how the hell had she caught that? He tried going for innocent confusion but gave in when Ruth gave him a look that said 'cut the crap' (very politely of course!).

"Shirt off, now." Ruth ordered.

"No dinner and a movie for me, eh? Just gonna skip right to the good stuff..." Dean started with mock innuendo but was halted by a punch to the arm by Lindsay who did not look impressed. "Dude! I was kidding! It was a joke."

"Are you sure you don't have a concussion cos you seem to have forgotten whose sitting next door. You trying to get your ass kicked by _my dad_ too." Lindsay said sarcastically, looking stricken the second it was out of her mouth. Her inflection had left the implication clear. "Wait... Dean wait I didn't... Dean I'm sorry!"

Dean however had whipped up his jacket noisily looking furious and was rushing out of the kitchen away from Lindsay's frantic apologies. He made it to the front door before he finally couldn't ignore the protests and turned violently.

"Stop! Just stop talking!" he snapped as quietly as he could manage. "Look, it was a bad idea for me to come here so now I'm leaving, okay?"

"No!"

"That was a rhetorical question, I'm..."

"Ooh, big word Dean." Lindsay interrupted with no malice. The joke fell flat though.

"What you think that I'll just start laughing and forget about everything? Well it doesn't work that way." Dean said angrily as he turned and started pulling open the front door. Lindsay pushed her arm over his shoulder and slammed it again, the force causing the both to hit the door.

"Where are you planning to go, huh? You gonna sleep in your car Dean cos I don't think you have anyplace else to go."

Dean said nothing in response, partly his body was screaming in protest to being body-checked into the door but mostly because she was right.

"Dean..."

"How am I supposed to look them in the eye now? As if this whole thing wasn't embarrassing enough as it is." He said quietly.

"Dean there is nothing for you to be embarrassed about."

"How would _you_ know? Here _you are_ with your perfect _life _and your perfect _parents_; and you know what, it _is _embarrassing, okay? So how bout, until your dad gets drunk and kicks you out of the _motel_ that you call home you stop telling me how I'm _supposed _to feel. Because honestly, I don't think I've heard anything so _pathetic _in my _life_!" Dean finished feeling all of a sudden like someone had stolen the air from the hallway.

"Oh Dean..." she started but found she just didn't know what to say. So instead she pulled him into another hug. "You are _not_ pathetic. You are the strongest person I've ever met, okay? And just so you know, my parents would never judge you, especially not on the actions of your father. Because you know that what he does; that's on him. _He_ is responsible for his own actions, okay? _None_ _of this_ is your fault."

"I know." He said quietly even though he wasn't sure he really believed what she was saying. At the very least he was sure it wasn't entirely his father's fault.

"So you'll stay here, yeah? Cos you know it's freezing out there and anyway, I won't let you go, okay?"

"Oh you won't _let_ me? I'd like to see you stop me." He challenged, his mouth curving into a small smile even though his eyes were still a little sad.

"Alright," she said lightly before revealing Dean's car keys dangling on her index finger saying, "Aaaaaaand SHAZAM!"

Dean let out a burst of laughter, "Shazam? Really? Y'know you may well be the weirdest person I've ever met – and that is _including_ that kid every school has that eats paint and licks the walls."

"You want me to start pulling you're hair Dean? Cos I will?" she threatened with a snort before added in mock seriousness, "And just so you know, in first grade; I _was_ that kid."

Dean laughed as with her last statement she turned and skipped back to the kitchen. Taking a deep breath he shook his head and followed her. Well, she was nothing if not bold. And unique.

_Very_ unique.

XXXXX

After the blow out that had occurred, Mrs Kale seemed to have decided not to insist on checking under Dean's shirt and had showed him to Lindsay's brother's room where he would be staying (even though he already knew where it was – it was more out of courtesy he supposed.) He felt weird wearing borrowed pyjamas to sleep in; partly because he wasn't sure he even owned any anymore, he just wore underwear - or sweats if it was really cold or the motel was particularly crappy. He had almost said this aloud but managed to stop himself before he threw himself in that particular pit of embarrassment. He had said he was going to stay there and try and get some sleep.

Ruth walked downstairs and hugged her daughter tightly.

"What was that for?" Lindsay asked.

"I would never ever kick you out, not even if you arrived home with dead body on tow." She said emphatically.

"Okay..." Lindsay said giving her mother a weird look but smiling anyway. Amused she continued, "Well I guess that's kind of comforting, in a creepy kind of way."

"Sorry, you know what I mean. I just... that poor boy..."

"I know Mom. He'll be okay though." she said with quiet confidence. "And he has us in his corner right; which is a force to be reckoned with any day of the week."

"Look at you all grown up." She smiled cupping her daughter's cheek gentle with a small smile. Lindsay grabbed her in another hug never having felt quite so grateful for her loving parents.

XXXXX

At about 2 in the morning Dean sat bolt upright in his bed. He was shaking and covered in sweat. Confused and panting hard he ripped off the covers and shot out of bed

"Sam!" he called frantically, "Sam! Sam where are you?"

He ran out onto the landing desperately searching for his brother. The scent of smoke and burning flesh filled his nostrils and terror took over his mind.

"Fire! Sam! Where are you? Somebody help!"

He felt hands gripping his upper arms and he shoved them away in panic. He fell backwards landing with a yelp of pain before he scrabbling away, his eyes flying around the hallway.

"No! Sam? SAMMY?"

It was Lindsay's voice that finally snapped him out of it.

"Dean Stop! What's wrong?" she cried frantically.

Stopping Dean tried to take a breath. Calming down he remembered where he was. Still panting he said, "Lindsay? Oh god, I'm so sorry..."

"Dean, it's okay." She cut in. She glanced at her parents, both of whom had been woken by Dean's outburst. They had got to Dean first in fact; luckily Dean hadn't actually hurt Adam when he grabbed Dean. It was well intentioned of course but a really bad idea.

Dean felt absolutely mortified; and there was him thinking the night couldn't have got any worse. Someone had turned on the hall light and Dean wished not for the first time he could disappear. Instead he stood up and tried to apologise again.

"No, it isn't okay. I'm really sorry, I'm just gonna go back to bed, okay?"

"Oh Dean." Ruth said holding on to her husband a little tighter with a sad note in her voice as she stared at Dean.

Looking down Dean realised why; he had taken off his t-shirt because he had gotten too hot in bed. Damn, he thought to himself, no wonder they all looked so freaked out (aside from the yelling thing of course); the bruising on his abdomen and arms looked awful. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself self-consciously.

"It's not as bad as it looks, okay? I had a slight collision with... some furniture... and the ground... and it's not that bad, so y'know, you don't have to worry. This isn't a big deal." He couldn't bring himself to look any of the Kale's in the eyes as he said it so he settled for staring at the ground.

The air was tense as they all stood there silently, none of them knowing what to say. Finally Ruth sent the rest of her family back to bed with a subtle tilt of her head and a pat on her husband's chest. Then once they were gone she started to walk toward Dean who stepped backwards involuntarily as she entered his personal space. He wasn't sure she was doing until she wrapped her arms around him. His body was completely stiff, his muscle so taught they were practically vibrating under her touch.

"He shouldn't have done this to you." She said in a low voice. "It is NOT okay. It IS a big deal. And it is NOT your fault."

"He doesn't mean to hurt me. And he's gonna stop... he said he would."

"No Dean. He isn't going to stop. Not until he gets help."

Dean didn't say anything but could do nothing to stop the tears falling down his face like water from a faucet. His body shook as his silent sobs expelled the tension within him. He relaxed into Mrs Kale, his head resting on her shoulders. When he stopped she grasped his face gentle between her fingers.

"Now, off to bed with you okay. We can talk in the morning, okay?" she said softly.

Dean just nodded, grief still written all over his face, before he padded back to his temporary room.


	16. As We Drink to Your Sobriety

Sam had only managed an hour or so of sleep when he finally gave in and got up at 6AM. He walked into the kitchen only to find his father sitting silently at the table. He was eerily still.

"Dad? Are you okay?" he asked quietly trying to conceal his worry.

He had spent the night furious beyond words at his father, but seeing the man now he just looked... broken. He wanted to yell at him, to scream at him for kicking Dean out but he couldn't bring himself to. A niggling voice at the back of his mind said he was betraying Dean somehow but he knew that really Dean hated it when he fought with their dad so he figured he was just being silly.

John had yet to react to Sam's presence at all so Sam tried again, his voice a little stronger this time.

"Dad?"

"Sam, what are you doing up?" John asked softly looking confused. It was still dark outside and he seemed a little disoriented.

"It's six already."

"Oh." John said nodding but not seeming to comprehend his son's words.

"Dad, are you okay?" Sam said feeling more and more afraid by his father's inactivity.

"What? Yeah, everything's fine. Where's Dean?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, "You kicked him ou..."

"I know." John interrupted cutting Sam off, closing his eyes with a pained expression. "I mean do you know where he went?"

"I..." Sam started unsure whether to tell him or not.

His internal debate ended when his father turned pleading eyes his way and said simply in a broken voice, "I can't lose him."

"He's at Lindsay's, he's fine. You're gonna go get him, right?" Sam finished in a small voice.

"Stay here and lock the door after me."

"Wait... don't you think I should come too?" Sam asked tentatively.

"What? I'm not going to hurt him if that's what ..." John started a little frustration in his voice before he was interrupted.

"_I know_ _that_ dad," Sam said like it went without saying (which in Sam's mind it did, he didn't even know why John would mention such a thing.) He continued though, adding carefully, "I just think that things will go a bit smoother if I'm there."

For a moment John looked conflicted before an expression of determination took over. "No, I think it would be best if I talk to him alone, clear the air. I won't be long."

Sam knew that there was no point arguing so he sat down at the crappy kitchen table and tried to shake the feeling of apprehension that was gripping his stomach. After being given the standard Winchester 'Stay Safe' talk and complimentary shotgun he watched his father leave the motel, slamming the door behind him.

XXXXX

Adam and Ruth Kale had woken within ten minutes of each other at around 7AM. Adam took one look at his wife's face and could see the worry written all over it.

"You want to talk about it?" Adam asked with a knowing smile which his wife returned as she hugged him, resting her head on his chest.

"I'm just worried about Dean. What are we gonna do? Did you _see_ those bruises? They looked awful!"

"I know Honey."

"God, what kind of father does that? I mean I had my suspicions before but just... how could a father do that? Can you imagine doing that to either of our two?"

"Of course not, but then I have you don't I. Not that I'm saying I would ever hurt them but the guy is obviously having a hard time."

"What so that makes it okay? There's no excuse for that kind of behaviour!" she said angrily in a hushed voice.

"Hey, I'm not saying there is. I was only saying that it's not so black and white is all. Good people do bad things all the time. Someone _murdered_ his wife; I don't know how I would go on if something like that happened to you and _I_ have family to rely on. From what I understand they're all alone."

"Yeah but even if you were in his position you wouldn't lay a hand on our kids and you know it."

"Yeah, I do." Adam said hugging his wife tighter against him. "And the way he just expects Dean to clean up his messes is completely unfair. The guy from what I can tell is a raging alcoholic so I'm guessing that there's a lot of those 'messes' too."

"Oh my God I forgot to tell you! I found a concealed _knife_ in Dean's belt. I was washing his jeans and I found it. I mean really, a _knife_! What the hell is he doing with a knife?"

"Well given where Dean had to get his father from with me the other night I'm guessing protecting himself."

Ruth look of horror was replaced by one of understanding then sorrow. Despite what Adam had said to Dean he had told his wife the whole story (minus the gun; he didn't want her having a heart attack after all). He hadn't planned to tell her, he had just blurted it out. She had taken it like he knew she would deep down; she had been... excellent. He didn't think Dean needed to know that Ruth knew because he would only freak out.

"Do think that it's terrible that a part of me wants to tell him to stay away from our daughter?" Ruth asked guiltily. "I mean I'm not going to... I just... it crossed my mind."

"Of course it doesn't make you 'terrible', it makes you a good mother; it makes you a _great_ mother."

"We have to call child services, right?"

"Honestly, I don't think that will get us anywhere. They live in a _motel room_. We call the authorities and they'll be gone within hours. Mr Winchester has no ties to the community so once he leaves that's it..."

"Oh Adam, what the hell are we gonna do?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out."

"Yeah," Ruth said letting out a deep breath she hadn't known she'd been holding feeling much better. She glanced at the clock and sighed, "Oh, bad news honey; it's time to get up."

"Damn!" Adam laughed, his wife joining seconds later.

XXXXX

Dean hadn't managed to get back to sleep after the incident last night. He found himself wondering what would be an appropriate time to get up. Man he hated this; he had no idea why Sam had this burning desire to make friends, all it seemed to cause him was hassle. Sure it was good he had a place to crash but now he had to spend the day trying to figure out what the hell 'normal' was in a proper family.

Normally he wouldn't care what people thought of him, but the Kale's had taken him in and he needed to try and do some damage control as it was. He didn't want them calling social services... or God forbid the police now did he. Operation 'do not act like a freak' was now in officially in progress; it was not going well so far but he could pull it back... hopefully.

He had been laying flat on his back pondering his predicament when he heard a noise out on the landing and his hand almost of its own accord shot under his pillow searching for his knife. For a second he panicked when he found nothing before he kicked himself for forgetting where he was. He was fully dressed already and had been for a good half hour so he tentatively opened the door to look.

"Dean," came Ruth's surprised voice, "You're up. And dressed."

"Yeah," Dean said feeling embarrassed, "School day and everything, y'know?"

"Sure, I was just about to try and get Lindsay up, she had me believing that teenagers getting up if their own accord in the morning was an 'unrealistic expectation', like expecting her to start flying or turning invisible at will." She laughed putting Dean at ease.

"I guess I'll be going then. I... I'm really sorry about last night... I just... it was just a nightmare. I hope I didn't freak you out too much." Dean stammered looking intently at the thick carpets of the hall like they held the secrets of the universe or something equally significant.

Ruth inwardly sighed deeply before putting on a smile, "No apologies necessary. I have two kids; this isn't the first time something like that has happened. Although with Linds it was something to do with a giant monkey trying to eat her pillows..."

"Mom!" Lindsay's sleepy voice yelled from her bedroom doorway much to Dean and Mrs Kale's amusement.

"Morning darling, good to see you up," Ruth beamed.

"Whatever... just stop embarrassing me. I'll be down for breakfast soon. Please stop torturing me." She mumbled as she went back into her room to get dressed.

"She's not a morning person." Ruth stage whispered.

"Mom!"

"I know, I know; stop embarrassing you," She singsonged. Turning back to Dean she said, "How about you stay for breakfast before you go, huh?"

Dean looked conflicted but acquiesced after a moment, "Sure."

Breakfast at the Kale's house seemed a little grand to Dean but he enjoyed it nonetheless. The wide selection and copious amounts of food that was actually decent was a nice change from stale cereal. He remained silent, falling into observation mode as he watched the family move around him. He decided that his own family wasn't _all_ that different; much rougher around the edges but they were happy on a good day, right?

Then came the sound of someone knocking on the door. Dean read the look of surprise on everyone's faces and came to the conclusion that visitors this early was unusual. He had to quell the urge to go to the door first, a protective instinct to put himself between any potential danger and the Kale's. They had no fear in them and that made them vulnerable. Ignorance might be bliss but it could well get your throat ripped out.

Okay so he knew that he was being ridiculous but it was too ingrained of an instinct to just turnoff.

Adam went to find out who it was as Dean scanned outside the window for anything out of place. That was when he clocked his father's truck. He felt his whole body tense, cursing quietly he set off towards the door. He made it there just as it was swung open to reveal John. Mr Kale of course recognised him at once; John on the other hand didn't register so much as a hint of recognition. Adam bristled at what John represented; he looked much more imposing now than he had before.

"Dean," he said seeing his son at Adam's shoulder. "Dean, son, can I talk to you."

Dean was a little thrown by the lack of hostility in his father's gravelly voice. "Dad, what are doing here?" he asked surprised.

"Sam told me you were here. Please, just come out here so we can talk."

Adam put his back to John looking Dean straight in the eye, saying quietly, "Dean, you don't have to, okay? If you want, I'll make him leave."

"No, it's okay. I won't be long."

"You're sure?"

"Of course he is." John said irritated.

"I wasn't asking you." Adam responded a aggressively.

John stepped forward equally hostile, only to be shoved back by Dean who put himself between the two men. "Dad, calm down. Adam, I'll be fine."

"Okay," Adam said, his uncertainty clear, "But I'll be just here if you need me, okay?"

"Sure." Dean smiled at him before he stepped out onto the porch with John pulling the door to but not closing it completely. "So?"

John looked uncomfortable, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "Look, I'm sorry, can we just forget about last night, okay?"

"Forget?" Dean said unable to conceal his anger, "I don't know dad, can we? 'Cause personally I don't wanna end up just repeating this over and over again. I've had enough. Either you come back from your next job sober or don't bother coming back at all."

John was shocked into silence. Finally he just let out a taken aback, "What?"

"You heard me; I'm not doing this anymore. It's not fair; life is hard enough as it is, you goin' off the rails all the time like this is too much."

"Come on Dean, I don't know what BS these guys have been filled your head with but we're fine. I'm fine, I just lost my temper a little and you disappearing off all day like that didn't exactly help. I was _worried _about you. And then you come at me with all that _attitude_, what did you expect?"

"So this is all my fault?" he said with a snort pointing at the cut on his head.

John looked away saying nothing.

"God!" Dean fumed, "You know sometimes you make me so goddamned angry you make me wanna smack you right back!"

"So why don't you! Go ahead; take a swing if it'll make you feel better!" John yelled.

"NO, it won't! Because I don't wanna hurt you! Because unlike YOU I actually care about this family!" Dean shouted back.

"You think I don't care!" John roared.

"I DON'T KNOW!"

A silence fell between the two, both of them a little surprised.

"What?" John said quietly. "Of course I care. You and Sam are the only thing that matters to me anymore."

"Yeah?" Dean said his tone hard, "Then prove it. Come back sober or like I said; don't come back at all. I'll take Sam to school. I'll see you when you get back, hopefully."

With that he left John on the porch, knowing his son was deadly serious. He walked back to his truck and drove away still in a state of shock. This was not how he had foreseen things going.


	17. These Hands That Will Never Be Clean

Shortly after John left Dean had said his thank-you and goodbyes to the Kales and driven to get Sam who had looked incredibly relieved to see him. So relieved he had grabbed him in a tight hug and not even looked in the slightest bit embarrassed when Dean had called him a girl.

The drive to school had been a much more relaxed one than he had expected. Sam hadn't hounded him like he had been preparing for and had accepted the simple 'dad said he didn't mean it' and moved on. He had also believed Dean when he said that he hurt his head slipping on the ice, in fact he had even gone so far as to laugh at his supposed klutziness. Dean had to ignore the little pain in his heart as he forced himself to laugh along.

All in all though the day seemed to be going okay, he should have known it wouldn't last though.

XXXXX

Dean managed to avoid Lindsay until first break when she cornered him under the bleachers.

"Dean! I've been looking for you everywhere. Can we talk about what happened please?"

"Do we have to?"

"Dean..."

"Fine, he apologised, I told him if he didn't stop drinking I was done, happy?" Dean said his irritation clear.

"Hey, why are you angry with me?" she said sounding hurt.

"I'm not, I just... I don't wanna talk about it, alright?"

"Can we talk about us then? About what happened?"

"You know I was thinking, I think it's best we just stay friends, okay? It's not that I don't want to Linds, I just..."

"But I love you Dean!" There were tears in her eyes as she blurted out something she hadn't meant to say out loud. Dean turned away to hide his shock. He felt like the worse human being on the planet every time he met her eyes.

"You know one day I'll leave," he said quietly, "One day I'll just be gone and you'll never see me again. Can you live with that? Can you really? Because I think maybe you were right; maybe this isn't fair on you."

"I hate this! I hate _you_! Why do you keep doing this! It's like I can feel your breath on my skin but when I reach out to touch you... you aren't there. There's this void... this chasm... between us. You're always out of my grasp... I feel like I'm trying to catch the wind! Where are you?" She tapped a finger against his forehead. "I feel like there is some impenetrable wall up here that I could never breach."

He closed his eyes, gentle pulling her hand down by the wrist. He had meant to let go after he pulled her hand away from his face but found that he couldn't. He heard her breath hitch painfully and new there were tears running down Lindsay face now.

"Lindsay, I'm sorry."

"What, that's it? You're _sorry_? Fine then; screw you!"

The second blow came at lunch break. This time it was Sam though. He marched over to Dean, his face thunderous, throwing himself down next to his brother.

"What's up with you?"

"Who did you tell about where we were living?"

"What? No-one... well I mean Lindsay but..."

"Well guess what Dean, someone told Louise and she broke up with me!"

"Dude, I'm sorry..."

"Why are you apologising? It was obviously Lindsay not you." He huffed but there was no anger directed at Dean.

"Yeah, but I think it's my fault she's angry. Still, I can't believe she told Louise. Are you sure it was her? I mean..."

"Dude, you think I'd tell _anyone _where we live?"

"What? You're too good to live there now? Too good for me?" Dean retorted before he could stop himself.

"No, that's not what I meant Dean," Sam said letting out a deep breath, "I just... I really liked her, y'know?"

"Yeah I know. Well she wasn't good enough for you anyway."

"What are we girls now? Well, I mean I know you are but..." Sam said with a mischievous smile.

"Shut-up!" he said punching Sam in the arm, "Come on; let's go get something to eat."

XXXXX

He didn't see Lindsay again until the next day as she was mysteriously absent from all the classes they normally shared on Mondays. He bumped into her at the lockers.

"Watch where you're going asshole!" she sniped.

"Oh, I'm the asshole? Where do you get off blabbing about my family? Be angry at me all you want but don't involve my brother!" he hissed back.

"What? I didn't do anything to your brother," she said with disdain.

"Oh really? Well you're the only one who knows where we're staying. Well guess what, _someone_ told Louise, on the same day we break up. Bit of a coincidence, isn't it? I'm not an idiot. Well guess what she did, she broke his heart! So thanks very much, I hope you feel better." He punctuated this by slamming his hand into the locker next to hers.

"Dean! I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen..."

"Oh, well, in that case it's fine." He said sarcastically.

"I told my friends, not Sam's! It didn't even occur to me they'd find out. And how was I to know she'd break up with him. I thought..."

"No you _didn't_ think! Christ, did you tell anyone about my dad?" Dean hissed horror written all over his face.

"No! Of course not! I would never..." she trailed off.

"Yeah, 'cause you've never done anything like that before." The hurt and sarcasm in his words caused Lindsay to recoil. "I hoped we could stay friends, what an idiot I was."

The hall way was empty now, the quiet felt odd. Lindsay was crying again, silently she turned away and walked to her class knowing she was going to be late.

Dean watched her leave, his back flat against the lockers behind him. He stared at the ceiling letting the back of his head hit the locker with a tinny thud. Feeling his temper flare as he mulled over the past few days he found himself ramming his elbow into the locker beside him several times, hard enough to leave a serious dent.

"Damn it!" he yelled putting both of his hands on top of his head, his whole arm throbbing.

A head poked out from one of the classroom just beyond the hallway lockers. It was a teacher Dean didn't recognise. She had grey hair and was probably nearing retirement. Her face was sour and Dean decided she was probably a bitchy old hag. He was right.

"Excuse me young man," she called haughtily. "What are you doing out of class?"

"Leaving," he called back shortly as he started to walk away.

"Hey! Come back here! Excuse me..." she shouted her high pitched voice grating on Dean's last nerve.

"Consider yourself excused." Dean shouted rudely not even turning back.

He arrived at his first class significantly late and not even close to prepared. His Math teacher was not impressed when he came in and sat down with not a hint of remorse or explanation.

"I suppose it would be too much to hope you did the work I set everyone last lesson?" asked said teacher.

"What can I say Mr Hunt, you know me to well." Dean said with a smirk.

"I'm assuming you have a good reason for being late?"

"Nope, just took me a bit of time to decide whether I felt like attending this wonderful class."

"Are you trying to get kicked out of my class today Mr Winchester?" Mr Hunt asked exasperated.

"Maybe," Dean replied with a devilish smile.

"How about you just stay quiet and try not to disrupt anyone for the rest of the lesson instead?" the older man asked trying to avoid dealing with this particular _difficult_ student. He had started taking the path of least resistance with kids like Winchester a long time ago.

Dean shrugged his in difference, before borrowing a pen and some paper and spent the rest of the lesson doodling idly.

His day continued with much of the same up until he was about to leave and someone made the mistake of really pissing him off.

He had spent lunch with Sam since neither of them had anyone to sit with. For Dean the separation was a choice, Sam on the other hand was apparently being ostracized by his classmates. Sam looked completely miserable which made Dean feel even more terrible. He seemed to have cheered up a bit by the end of the break though.

XXXXX

When he had come to get Sam at the end of the days things seemed to have deteriorated somewhat. He had found Sam being thrown up against his locker where he was supposed to meet him by some meathead. The kid was definitely a couple of years older than Sam and a lot bigger. If Sam chose to he could probably take the kid down but Dean knew that he wouldn't; he didn't fight unless he absolutely had to, particularly at school. It wasn't cowardice by any stretch of the imagination; he just didn't like resorting to violence and why the hell should he change for anyone?

Without waiting for an explanation as to what was going on Dean shoved through the crowd that had gathered and ripped the guy off his brother, putting him on the ground with a single punch. Blood gushed out of the kid's nose. Dean was on top of him with a hand on the kid's throat; his thumb shoved deep in just the right place.

"What the fuck are you doing? Stay the hell away from my brother or I'll break your damn legs!" he roared. At the terrified nod he released his grip, letting the boys head rebound off the floor and turned to Sam, "Let's go Sam. We better leave this asshole and his buddies so they can go cry to their mommies."

Normally Sam would have disapproved but he had been having a crappy day at the hands of those stupid kids and he was all out of sympathy.

XXXXX

John hadn't called all week and by Friday Dean was reaching the end of his tether. He was the one who had dealt out the ultimatum so he guessed he only had himself to blame. He was starting to doubt himself at this point and it was making him crazy.

Despite his angry words he had been sure his dad would come back, he was sure he'd pick his family over the booze. But maybe Dean had just run him off? Maybe he should have been more supportive? It wasn't like he couldn't take a beating; he knew he deserved it sometimes. Why had he been such a girl about this? He needed to talk to someone about this. He was so goddamn far out of his depth right now he felt like he was drowning.

There hadn't been any repercussions after Tuesday's incident yet but it served as just another worry putting pressure on Dean. What if they found out and tried to get a hold John. What if they found out he was gone and called social services?

He had tried calling John a couple of times but had hung up as soon as the voicemail message inevitably kicked in.

Lindsay had barely even looked at him which he supposed wasn't all that shocking. He needed to blow off some steam. So when one of the cheerleaders, called something ridiculous like Candy or Kitty or something else that sounded vaguely stripper-ish, had hit on him he had acted on impulse.

Candy or Kitty or whatever was repeating her final year and was a few years older than Dean. She knew what she was doing and appreciated that Dean did too. She obviously got around but who the hell was Dean to judge? Hot sex in the janitor's closet left Dean feeling a lot better than he had thought it would. He missed a few lessons messing around with her, time flying past the two of them in a pleasure filled haze. Dean found he could forget about all the shit in his crappy life and just _not think_...

Sam seemed to know what he had been up the second he saw him when Dean came to get him at the end of the day.

"Jesus Dean," Sam said with both amusement and disapproval.

"What?" Dean asked innocently.

"Don't 'What?' me, I know that look. And even if I didn't the cheerleader are all gossiping about you and you '_prowess_," he said cringing. There were some things he just never needed or wanted to hear about his brother.

"What can I say Sammy, when you're gifted, you're gifted." He laughed.

"Please stop talking." Dean just laughed before changing the subject.

"Sam, I'm going out tonight, the weathers gotten a lot better and we need the cash..."

"And you're hoping to get lucky," Sam finished.

"Oh, it has nothing to do with luck," he smirked before turning serious, "But really Sam, we do need the cash."

XXXXX

Dean made sure Sam was safe at home with a bunch of school work and other boring looking books before he went out that evening. He had made a discovery that day; finally something that made him feel just a little bit better, a way to cope with the chaos. To get back some control over his life. A voice deep down was telling him that this didn't seem like a particularly healthy route to go down but he was studiously ignoring said voice; he needed this.

It didn't take him long to earn enough money that he could move onto more pressing issues. He knew what he looked like and how to use it to his advantage. He was on his second beer when _she _walked in. He knew he would be going home with her the second they made eye contact. This obviously wasn't the first bar she had been in but she didn't seem drunk yet, a little buzzed maybe but that was all. She was had some serious heels that left her only about an inch or two shorter than Dean. Her hair was beach blond and her skin was sun-kissed despite the season so he figured she wasn't from around here, that or she'd been on a vacation somewhere sunny.

As soon as she ordered a drink Dean got an answer on that; she was Australian. Her name was India and she was probably the happiest person he had ever met. Dean felt a genuine smile bloom across his face as she told him how she was travelling around the world trying to spread a bit of cheer. It sounded kind of naive to his cynical ears but she was still incredibly positive after 6 months on the road so she had to be doing something right.

She must have been about 25 so when she enquired as to what he did for a living he figured high school was not a safe answer. He decided for tonight he was going to be taking a year out after college; he distracted her before she could ask what he had majored in, best to keep it vague. They spent another hour drinking and laughing before they left the bar together.

He left India's plush hotel suite at about three in the morning and spent the rest of the night sleeping in his car outside his motel since he couldn't bring himself to wake Sam up. Even though the car was cold and uncomfortable he didn't care. He was relaxed for once. Sam gave him a look between jealousy and annoyance when he got up and let Dean in at seven. He couldn't be grumpy for long as Dean's happy disposition was somewhat infectious. There training that morning was interesting at least.

XXXXX

The next two weeks went pretty much the same with a different girl every night and Dean's mood stayed good the most of the time. He could cope with the fact John hadn't called or made contact of any sort since the ultimatum. And when he felt like he couldn't he went out and found someone who could make help him forget.

He had finally left a message for John telling him he was sorry for being so tough on him and that he hoped he would come back soon. He felt an ache in his chest when he hung up but he was in a bar at the time so he made himself focus on the petit redhead sitting next to him who seemed to be alone.

She had as it turned out overheard his conversation though.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Me? I'm awesome, how are you?" he smiled back flirtatiously. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're 'awesome', really? You sounded kind of stressed on the phone there."

"Oh, you heard that, huh?" Dean said looking pained.

"Wanna talk about it? I'm a pretty good listener," she offered.

"You don't wanna know, trust me. And anyway last time I spilled my guts it didn't end so well. In fact the girl I talked to isn't speaking to me anymore and I might never see my dad again," he said with a laugh even though it really wasn't funny at all.

"Well, someone's having a bad day," she said squeezing his arm; the contact felt good. "How about I introduce myself; I'm Lila."

"Well it's nice to meet you Lila, I'm Dean."

"Let me ask you a question Dean, are you happy?"

"Wow, feel free to jump right in there then; get right to the serious questions."

"Sorry," Lila laughed, "Didn't mean to put you on the spot, it's just you looked so sad. Even with that smile on your face I can tell you aren't really okay."

Dean looked away not used to people seeing through the facade so easily. "Well, maybe I'm not okay, but I'm dealing."

"Let me guess, you have to be okay?"

"Yeah, Sammy's relying on me – that's my little brother in case you were wondering." He added gazing deep into his bottle of beer.

"I see. How old is he?"

"Thirteen, which is a _glorious_ age by the way," he muttered sarcastically. "Don't get me wrong, I love my brother, but there are days when I have honestly considered duct taping his mouth closed just so he'd stop arguing about everything. I honestly don't know where he gets the energy to fight over what is mostly petty bullshit as far as I can tell."

"Sounds like my son," she said with a distant smile. Dean stopped himself reacting but surreptitiously looked at Lila trying to figure out if he'd misjudged her age when he put her in her twenties. She caught the look despite his best efforts and laughed. "I was 16 when I had Logan. He's 11 now, but what can I say, he's an early bloomer on the teenage behaviour front."

"Yeah, so was Sam," Dean chuckled.

"So what happened to your parents? Mine disowned me when they found out about I was pregnant."

"Our mom, she died a long time ago. And Dad, well, he's still struggling. He'll come back though; I'm sure he will, well pretty sure..."

"Well, that explains the stress then. How long's he been gone?"

"A couple of weeks, he's been gone longer before though so I'm not too worried yet. Sam doesn't even know what happened, he thinks he's just off working," Dean let out another laugh at the unfairness of it all.

"Man, so you're coping with this all alone. You story just keeps getting tougher and tougher," Lila said gently mocking but giving another comforting squeeze to Dean's forearm.

"Ah, I don't know, sounds like you had it tough too."

"Yeah, but I had my aunt and uncle to take me in. And those two, well, they were _so_ strong and _so_ supportive; I was better off there than with my mom and dad any day of week. I still talk to them every day if I get the chance." Another fond smile crossed her face. She turned to Dean, "What about you? You got any family?"

"None that I know of, I can't really talk to my dad about that stuff; can't really talk to him about much of anything at the moment," Dean said his expression dark. "I don't know, he just... fell apart a little while back and I just can't seem to help him."

"Maybe that's something he has to do alone. Maybe he needs more time."

"Oh, I gave him time and let him get away with plenty of shit; stuff I probably shouldn't have really. Eventually I had to tell him to sort himself out or stay gone."

"And now you wish you hadn't?" she said with a nod of understanding. "Don't be so hard on yourself; you ask me you did the right thing. Doesn't mean it's easy though, you really shouldn't have to deal with this alone you know. You aren't exactly coping well. Oh and take it from someone who learnt the hard way, sleeping around with anyone who'll have you is not a good idea."

"What makes you think...?"

"Oh, I've seen you in here enough to know," she laughed. "And trust me, in might help at first, but then like any addiction, the feelings get less potent, so you have to have more until eventually you spiral out of control. You stop enjoying it but you can't stop _doing it_ because you can't stop trying to get that feeling back that you got at the start."

"You think I'm addicted to sex?" Dean said with an incredulous snort, "How about I'm a _guy_? This is what guys do. Did you think about that?"

"Dean, I don't know if it's got to that stage of addiction with you yet but trust me, you need to try and solve the real problem not drown it in sex. 'Cause honestly, sex is only gonna make things worse."

Dean let him head flop down onto his arms, letting out a deep breath.

"I know," he said quietly. "I just, I can't _do anything_ and its killing me. I just wanted to feel good for a while, y'know?"

"And do you."

"Well I _did_. So thanks for ruining that for me."

"Happy to be of service," she joked. "And we both know you weren't really happy."

"Well it's better than feeling like you're slowly suffocating while you wait for the phone to finally ring."

"You know you should really consider telling your brother what's going on."

"God no! And give him more ammunition? He has enough issues with dad as it is."

"Well, just think about it. Enough of the worrying, can I get you another?" Lila asked pointing at his now empty bottle.

XXXXX

He left the bar alone that night, his mood somewhat subdued. Sam had noticed the second he got back to the motel.

"You're home early, what happened? You strike out already or did you just run out of women?" Sam laughed hoping Dean would start looking less depressed again.

"No, I just... man... I just fucked up. I should have pushed Lindsay away. She was there for me and I pushed her away," Dean said sitting on the crappy couch, head in hands.

"Jesus Dean how much did you drink?" Sam asked looking concerned and unsure how to cope with Dean's sudden melancholy with no idea where it had come from. Given what their father was like he assumed it was down to too much alcohol.

"Not much. Don't worry I'm not a drunk like dad," Dean said bitterly, forgetting himself for a moment. Sam felt a pang of dread hit his stomach at the darkness in Dean's eyes when he looked him in the face.

"Oh my God is it dad? Is he okay?" Sam said panicking.

"No, no. Of course not. I haven't heard from him..." he stopped, toying with the idea of taking Lila's advice and telling Sam.

"Well, big shock there," Sam said dismissively letting the anxiety be replaced by the familiar anger at their father. "If this is really about Lindsay then, why don't you try talking to her?"

"What's the point? We'll just leave again."

"What? So we're just supposed to never have friends? So what if it's only a short time? Why don't you make the most of the time we do have?"

"Well, look at you all Zen."

"Don't mock me, I'm being serious," Sam said annoyed.

"Yeah, I know.

"And you know what? Personally, I can't wait to get the hell out this stupid town," Sam said grumpily.

"Amen to that," Dean replied desperately hoping they wouldn't be leaving alone.


	18. Pour a Little Salt We Were Never Here

_**A/N: Well guys this is the last chapter! Hope it doesn't disappoint. Title is from Skinny Love by Bon Iver - which is one of my favourite songs ever!**_

It was the next Monday when John finally came back.

The week had been okay so far as Dean was quiet and withdrawn so he had managed not to get himself in any trouble so far. He was sitting in his history lesson wondering why he was being tortured with this nonsense. He could see Miss Dane giving him that pitying look again that only made things worse.

Miss Dane kept almost getting up to talk to Dean and then changing her mind. She wanted to ask what was wrong but realised that it would be an exercise in futility. There was something different about Dean; he wasn't like the other kids. It unnerved her how one day he could be so bright and full of life with a smile that was impossibly infectious and the next he seemed to just become this black hole; dark and empty, sucking the life out of everything around him. For a kid who went out of his way not to be one of the 'popular kids' he seemed to have more influence over the mood of the whole classroom than any one person rightly should.

Something in her gut told her Dean would be gone soon though. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she just _knew_. Then his phone rang. She was about to tell him off but the look of relief on his face stopped her dead. He looked like a child, like a little boy who had just gotten that Christmas present he had begged for all year. She realised it was the first time he'd really looked like a kid.

"Dad?" he said hopefully.

"Hey son, I'm back," came the familiar deep voice.

"Like 'back for good' back?"

"Yeah, sorry it's been so long. But I've cleaned myself up though."

"Really? Thank God. So can we please get hell outta this stupid town?" Dean said with a laugh.

"Sure," John replied letting out a relieved laugh of his own. His relief was centred on the fact his son didn't hate him like he had been terrified he would.

"I mean can we leave right now? I am so over this place," he said standing and gathering up his stuff before deciding he didn't want any of it and leaving it on the desk. He continued to ignore the looks everyone was giving him.

"Wow, you really hate this place, huh? Won't Sam..."

"Oh trust me Sam will be just as happy to go as I am. Speaking of; I'll go get Sam and we'll meet you at the motel, yeah?"

"Sure, see you soon," John said ending the call.

Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket and walked to the door. Pausing before he left he turned back to Miss Dane, feeling like he ought to apologise for being such an asshole when she was trying to help him before.

"Thanks for being in my corner even if I didn't exactly appreciate it," he said with a smirk before adding seriously, "But that doesn't mean the next kid won't."

"Thanks Dean," Miss Dane replied with a smile of her own hearing the words of encouragement for what they were.

"Well, it's been real," Dean cockily, and with that he strutted away, not looking back. That was just another room of people he'd never see again.

When he got to the room where Sam was he opened the door and went in without bothering to knock. The whole class looked up in shock. Sam fixed him with an expression first of exasperation, then curiosity when he took in the look of glee on his brother's face.

"Sammy, we're leaving," Dean announced happily.

"Dean it's 11 in the morning. We can't just leave..."

"No I mean _leaving _leaving. As in let's blow this popsicle stand, as in..."

"Yeah, I got it Dean," Sam laughed standing up and packing his bag.

"Sit back down Mr Winchester," came the Sam's teacher's voice now he had gotten over his surprise at the interruption.

"I don't think so," Dean interjected in a friendly tone, "Me and him, we're leaving. You should feel free to continue to bore the rest of your students to death though Mr..."

"Roberts," Sam supplied sounding just as gleeful as Dean

"You two are about to be in so much trouble, you can't even begin to imagine. Stay right where you are Sam. In fact in my opinion I think it would be best if you stayed away from this _boy_ altogether..." Mr Roberts sneered.

"Oh really, well how 'bout you take your opinion and shove it up your..."

"Dean!" Sam interrupted stopping Dean from continuing that sentence. "Let's just leave. Thank God we're _finally _outta here!"

"Tell me about it!" Dean agreed slinging an arm around his brother as they walked away ignoring Mr Roberts's threats and bluster. They didn't care.

Before they left though, Dean realised he had one last pit stop to make.

He gave Sam his keys and told him to wait in the car. Sam looked a little worried and asked what he should do if a teacher saw him and told him to go back in. Dean totally seriously told him to lock the car door and tell whoever it was to go fuck themselves. Sam wasn't quite sure that was the advice he was looking for but decided it was good enough for him.

Dean ran to the classroom where he knew he'd find Lindsay. Even if they weren't speaking anymore he wanted to say goodbye before he left for good. It was an impulse he hadn't had before but he knew it was the right thing to do.

He tapped on the door this time and motioned for Lindsay to come out. He was a little surprised when she excused herself from the lesson and came out with straight away.

"Dean? What is it?" she asked after shutting the door behind her. She sounded sad.

"Lindsay..." he started but found himself at a loss for words. He hated goodbyes.

"Oh God, I knew it. You're leaving," she said with tears in her eyes. "Damn, I told myself I wouldn't get upset."

"I'm sorry, Linds."

"No, it's okay; I'm the one who's sorry. I know you were only trying to protect me before. It was my stupid fault for wasting all this time I could have had with you. So how about this, we hug each other goodbye and know that we both forgave each other. No hard feelings?" she finished with a watery smile.

Dean smiled back and they hugged tightly. Dean surprised Lindsay then by kissing her deeply.

"Bye Linds," he said before walking away. Just another girl he'd never see again he told himself, trying to ignore the hollow pain in his chest.

Lindsay just watched him walk away, unable to speak; silenced by her sorrow.

XXXXX

That evening after they had had a good, _family_ meal at a pretty decent diner they went back to the motel to pack up their stuff. It was then that Dean finally got to have a proper talk with his father; this conversation could not be had in Sam's presence, so with him finishing up packing this was their last chance for a while.

"So..." Dean began awkwardly.

"Yeah?" John replied knowing what silent the question was but forcing his son to ask it anyway.

"Are you sober now? For good?"

"Yeah, well there might be a beer here a there but no more letting it get so out of control."

"Can you handle that?" Dean asked a little uneasy but glad his father was being honest about it.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I let things go on for as long as I did. I knew you were in trouble but I didn't do anything..."

"Don't apologise, this is on me not you. It ain't your responsibility to police me. And I know you tried to help me. What I did, I'm so sorry Dean..."

"I know," Dean responded looking away. In the awkward silence that followed he found his mind drifting to all the people who had tried to help _him_. And then he thought about how he had rejected their help just like his father had rejected his for so long, he thought there was probably some irony in that somewhere. He looked at his father again sensing the man had more to say.

"Dean, I realised something while I was away... how much you give for this family... and how I've just been taking it for granted..."

"Dad, its fine..." Dean protested.

"No, no it isn't. It's not fine and I want you to know that. Just like what I did wasn't okay," John stopped trying to gather his thoughts, to figure out how to put what he wanted to say into words. "That hunt I was on, there was this little boy... his father had been possessed for God knows how long. And this kid... when I looked at him... he seemed so familiar and I couldn't work out why..."

John stopped taking a shaky breath. The way he was talking, so halting and unsure; Dean didn't think he'd ever seen his father like that before. John thoughts were jumbled and he knew he was rambling, he wasn't sure if he was making sense.

"The kid... he had been with his father most of the time he had been possessed, he'd seen what he'd done. Anyway... I... well... every time I looked at the little boy I kept thinking maybe I knew him from somewhere... he was so... _familiar_. It wasn't until I had exercised the father and had brought him back home to his kid that I realised why... it was the expression on his face whenever he looked at him. I knew that look. It's how you look at me when I'm drinking. Like I'm a monster..." John said his voice breaking.

"Dad, I don't think you're a monster..." Dean whispered, his throat feeling tight and his eyes watering.

"Yeah, I am. What I did to you, it's unforgivable... You're my _son_. Anyway, I spent the last week with a friend. Just getting my head on straight, y'know? I talked some stuff through with him, about why I did it. I don't think I can talk about it with you yet... but one day Dean, I will. And you know, I promise, I mean really _promise_ I won't hurt you again. I _won't _let you down," John said with as much conviction as a person could put into words.

Dean guessed he should know better than to believe his promises. But he loved his father; he was a _her_o. So he let him have this lie.

_His father was a hero_.

Maybe if he told himself enough times that his father wouldn't hurt him again, he would start to believe it. He _would_ believe it.

_His father was a hero._

His father never had hurt him on purpose; he knew that. So now the drinking was under control he was safe. They were all safe.

John was staring at Dean, waiting for some sign of acceptance. And so Dean nodded silently and nothing more was said until Sam arrived and they were ready to set off.

"So, where are we off to now?" Sam asked uncharacteristically upbeat about the move.

"I don't know," John said thoughtfully the serious air broken by Sam's happiness, "How do you boys feel about Florida?"

"Girls in bikinis? What the hell are we doing here, let's go!" Dean said enthusiastically shoving John toward his truck and Sam toward the Impala. Sam and John just laughed.

Climbing into his truck and taking the lead John switched on the engine. As he pulled out of just another crappy motel he wondered if he had made the right decision coming back.

THE END

_A/N: Done! I hope you guys enjoyed the story. I hope it doesn't feel too unresolved with Dean but I think that this is how he would deal with it; he would forgive his father. I think Dean could justify anything because he hero-worshipped his father almost as a coping method for the shit he had to deal with._

_Sam wouldn't be so forgiving though and I am thinking about a sequel where he finds out but I am not sure yet. Good idea, bad idea? _

_Gracie x_


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